


A Week with You

by Pastellorama



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Adultery, Alternate Ending, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Caretaking, Cheating, Chess, Emotional Support, Illness, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Infidelity, Intimacy, Kingsley is really not the greatest person in the world, M/M, Oral Sex, References to Illness, Religious Conflict, Religious Discussion, Slow Build, some dominance?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2018-12-21 03:35:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 32,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11935476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastellorama/pseuds/Pastellorama
Summary: When Kingley's neighbor Joseph Christiansen falls ill, he is called upon by Mary Christiansen to nurse him back to health. Over the course of a week, the two grow closer and Kingsley finds himself desiring to cure more than just Joseph's flu.~*~ In true nature of the game, this story is written in first person from the Dadsona's viewpoint. ~*~





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I know a prologue is not a chapter, but AO3 doesn't seem to have the option for me to just list this as a Prologue.

_“Look, just leave him on your couch and he'll be fine. It's not like I'm asking you to do anything hard, really.”_

“Yeah, I know, Mary, but I just... wouldn't it be better for you to take care of your own husband while he's sick?”

I had my phone wedged between ear and shoulder as I listened to Mary complain about the trials of taking care of a full-grown man, and how hard it would be on her if their four children also fell ill because of Joseph. I might have felt some sympathy, if I didn't know Mary was only concerned about how it would impede upon the time she spent going out and getting drunk with Robert.

“Fine, I'll take him; but don't think I'm doing it as a favor for you,” I finally decided. “I just think _someone_ who _cares_ should probably be around while he is recovering.”

 _“Great, you can come get him whenever. Now would be preferable, however.”_ Mary didn't even seem phased by my remark, hanging up as soon as she was finished speaking and leaving me standing in my kitchen with a half eaten bowl of cereal still in my hands.

I scoffed, unimpressed by her attitude, and dumped the unfinished food in the sink. “'Manda, I'm bringing Joseph over! Be back soon!” I hollered as I shoved my feet into my old and beat-up shoes. She yelled something back, something I couldn't make out, and I shrugged before exiting the house. I'd pick up Joseph, get him comfy, and the guy would be fine in no time.

No time at all....  



	2. Monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kingsley "Kay" Altman dutifully heads over to the Christiansen Home in order to retrieve a very ill Joseph.

“Good, Kingsley, you made it just in time. Where's Amanda?” 

I brushed off Mary's use of my full first name, my brow furrowing at her comment. “Amanda?”

“Yeah, that... kid... you hang out with? With the freckles?” Mary said vaguely.

“Yeah, I am familiar with my daughter Amanda,” I replied. “She's at home. Where I left her?”

Mary sighed loudly, her eyes rolling towards the sky in annoyance. “Well who the hell is going to watch the kids if you didn't bring her!?”

I could feel my teeth grinding together as I stopped myself from suggesting that she watch her own kids. My dentist was surely going to scold me later, if I kept doing this every time I had to interact with the unpleasant woman. “I guess I will call her,” I said slowly, each word accented to ensure Mary knew I was displeased. “She won't work without payment, though.”

“Whatever.” Mary turned around and practically sauntered further into her home, and I listened to my phone ring until Amanda answered.

_“What's up, Pops?”_

“I've got a biiig favor to ask of you...” I informed her, following Mary into the house.

_“Daaaaad,”_ Amanda said in that all too familiar way of reproaching her father. 

“It'll be worth your while, I promise.” Where had Mary gone? She had disappeared in the time it had taken for me to close the front door behind me.

_“Fine. You owe me.”_

“Mary is going to pay you.”

_“... so? You still owe me! We'll work out the deets later! Bye!”_

I briefly wondered what it was lately with people hanging up before the other person even had a chance to say something. I stuffed my phone into my pocket and sighed; Amanda must have had something in mind, something her heart was set on, that she knew she could get if she agreed to doing this big of a favor. 

Moving through the hallways, I realized I kind of really hated being alone in Joseph's house—Joseph was a great guy, but his children were creepy beyond all get out. I kept waiting for one to jump out and scare me as I wandered around the house.

I'd never even been farther than the living room and the kitchen of Joseph's home, but now, with no one to guide me, I was forced to get a little nosy and begin peeking in every room. I was cautious with every door I opened, twisting the handles as slowly and quietly as possible.

My efforts were not in vain, as I absolutely _did_ come across the twins, Christian and Christie, “operating” on what appeared to be a Ken Doll. How they were managing to cut directly through his thighs with safety scissors was a wonder, and I did not want to think about it any more than was necessary.

“Kingsley!” 

My head jerked in the direction of Mary's harsh call. So _snappy_ , I thought as I went towards where I'd heard her yell from. Finally, I found Mary standing at the door of what must've been hers and Joseph's shared bedroom. I only really guessed as much because of the life preserver that hung on the door; the words “Psalm 138:7” were painted in pretty calligraphy along it. I had no idea what that scripture was.

“He's in there. Is your daughter coming or not?” Mary asked impatiently.

“She's on her way right now. You know she charges ten an hour with an additional five bucks per kid, right?” I had no idea what Amanda demanded as payment for babysitting, but I figured she wouldn't object to my statement. She needed the money, especially if she was going to be attending that big fancy art school... what was it called again?

I realized too late that I'd been trying to remember the name of Amanda's chosen college for several minutes while Mary was talking. I tried to pick up on what she was talking about, but none of it seemed to make any sense at this point—it seemed she was in the middle of some tangent about the churchgoers in the area. I nodded along, my eyes drifting towards Joseph. 

He was sleeping, a sheen of sweat coating his skin. He looked paler than ever, his blonde hair wet from the sweat forming from the fever he no doubt had. What had he gotten? Somehow, I suspected one of his kids might be to blame... they were exactly the sort to steal someone's snot rag and use it to _poison_ their parent. Ew. Would Amanda ever do such a thing? _Had_ Amanda ever done such a thing? I hoped not. I hoped I was a cool enough dad she would never do such a thing to me....

Mary was still ranting when the doorbell rang, Mary uttering a loud “ _FINALLY_ ” about Amanda's timely arrival. She left to let Amanda in, and I felt myself relax a little. Even when Joseph was asleep, it was uncomfortable to be around both him and Mary and the same time. Maybe I was just uncomfortable around Mary....

I stepped towards the bed, kneeling down to lightly shake Joseph's arm and wake him. “Joseph,” I called quietly. “Hey. Joseph.”

“Mmm... I'm... I'm not....”

I sat back a bit, listening to Joseph mumble in his sleep. Whatever he was dreaming about, it didn't seem good. I jostled him a little harder. If he didn't wake up soon, I was going to have to carry him out of here.... ugh, it was a good thing I'd been exercising with Craig lately. Still, did I really want Mary and Amanda to witness such a thing? There was no way I was going to come out looking cool, like a firefighter or something....

“Kay?” 

“Heeeey, look at those blue eyes,” I commented as Joseph finally opened his eyes and peered at me. “Yup, it's me buddy. We're gonna hang out for a bit!”

Joseph shook his head against his pillows. “I... can't today... I'm too sick,” he murmured breathily. He sounded awful, his eyes struggling to focus as he turned his gaze towards the ceiling.

“I know,” I assured him. “Just come with me, we're gonna get you aaaall better.” Why was I talking like that? Like he was a little kid I had just promised a lollipop if he was good? Joseph wasn't really moving, and I almost considered offering him a lollipop for real.

“But... Mary....”

“Hey, hey, it's alright. She just wants to make sure the kids don't get sick too,” I told him.

He gave a relieved sigh and relaxed a little. “She's such a good woman...” he said softly. I frowned, but didn't say anything. He didn't need to know the real reason she was worried about the kids getting sick.

“Yeah, she's... great,” I forced myself to agree. “Alright, we're gonna get you up now and you can go right back to sleep once we get to my place, okay?”

“... what about my stuff?” Joseph asked.

Stuff? What stuff? I stared at him before it began to dawn on me that the man would probably need some things if he was going to be staying over for more than a few hours. “Uhh... right... stuff. Um, let's see,” I said, getting to my feet and looking around. “A bag... a bag... we need a bag.”

“There's... a duffle bag... in the closet,” Joseph helped, lifting a finger to point at the closet doors. 

Of course. Of course there was a duffle bag in the closet. Normal people kept luggage stuff in their closet, right? I did... wait... did I? Did I even own a suitcase? I opened the closet doors and peered around in the dark before spotting a bag high up on one of the shelves. It had an anchor embroidered on it along with Joseph's name in gold lettering. How fancy!

“Alright, I've got it!” I said triumphantly when I managed to get it down from the shelves. “Okay, let's see... we need... pajamas, a tooth brush... uhh... do you want, like, normal clothes or...?”

Joseph weakly turned his head towards the dresser. “Third drawer on the left... sweats.”

I opened the drawer, rifling through it and pulling out a pair of navy blue sweat pants. Joseph guided me through the drawers until he had a pair of sweat pants, some athletic shorts, and a few tank tops. Then he gestured to the top middle drawer, and I casually pulled it open.

My cheeks flushed, my palms abruptly turning sweaty. Oh yeah... underwear. I guess he did need those.... 

“Do you... uh... have a preference here?” I asked. His underwear were in much better shape than mine. Was this that fabric that “wicked sweat away”? It looked soft. Oh... those ones were pink. 

_Don't think about a pastor in pink underwear. Don't think about a pastor in pink underwear._

What was wrong with me!?

“Anything is fine,” Joseph answered. I eventually just averted my eyes and grabbed a handful to stuff in the duffle bag. Hopefully... that would be enough.

“Okay!” I said much louder than I intended to as I zipped the bag shut and slung it over my shoulder. “That ought'ta do it! Let's roll!”

I almost forgot Joseph would need more help from me than just verbal encouragement, and I hurried to help him up from the bed. It didn't look like I would need to be carrying him on my back—at least, not this very second—but he did toss an arm around my neck for support as we made our way through the house.

Amanda intercepted us, her green eyes looking over Joseph to ascertain that he was, indeed, really sick. “Wow, you look bad, man,” she helpfully pointed out. “Mary already le—”

I lightly stepped on her foot, shutting her up quickly. “Left to get ingredients for dinner, right 'Manda Panda?” I interjected. She pulled her foot out from under mine quickly, scowling at me for my actions and shrugged.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Great! You're such a good kid, offering to help her out with the kids while I help Joseph get better! See ya at home later, honey, be a good person!” I told her loudly as I shuffled Joseph past her. Hopefully he hadn't noticed anything... odd... about our interaction.

 

~*~

 

Getting Joseph into the car, and back out of the car, had been a bit of an ordeal, but I'd eventually managed to get him situated on the living room couch. I'd made sure to give him the fluffiest pillows in the house (I'd apologize to Amanda later for stealing her pillows...) and covered him with my favorite blanket for nights when I stayed in. I hoped he was comfy... he _looked_ comfy. Apart from being pale, and sweaty, and overall very ill anyways.

Would it be wrong to watch Long Haul Paranormal Ice Road Ghost Truckers while the man was half dead on my couch? I wasn't really sure what else to do with myself—I hadn't had any other plans today until Mary had called. My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I dug it out to look at the notifications.

_Hey, Kay! The girls just won another game, and we're getting pizza to celebrate.... again. Wanna come along and help me fend off the lonely moms club?_

My lips moved as my eyes scanned over the message from Craig. I did love pizza... but I couldn't just leave Joseph alone in my house. I fussed with my phone a bit, trying to get the keyboard to appear but accidentally hitting the back button at least three times first. 

_Nah, man. Can't today—I'm taking care of Joseph while he's sick. Bring me any pizza that doesn't fit in your hellish workout lifestyle, though!_

My phone buzzed before I could even put it away, Craig's response appearing immediately after mine: _Aw bummer! Well, enjoy—don't get sick too!_

I smiled. No way was I gonna get sick. My immune system was the best, and I chalked it up to years of biting my nails and building up resistance to all things... germ. Glancing over at Joseph, I tried to remember what to do with a sick person. What had I done the last time Amanda was sick?

Soup! We had soup somewhere in the kitchen, right? Opening the cupboards, I pulled out every canned item I could find. Peas... corn... beets? No one in this house ate beets... where had these even come from?? Ugh, cranberry sauce... Amanda couldn't possibly be my child. I found a few soups, but none had chicken or noodle in them. 

Frowning, I texted Amanda: _Can sick people have tomato soup? Or does it have to be chicken noodle?_

Amanda responded quickly: _Tomato is fine, but use water! Avoid anything with milk or cream, especially if he looks like he might barf!_

I grimaced: _Ew. I hope he doesn't barf._

No milk or cream... that was an odd rule. Where had she learned that? I began putting the canned goods away, leaving out the tomato soup. If I couldn't give Joseph milk, did that mean no cheese either? It was hard to imagine eating tomato soup without grilled cheese... it almost seemed primitive.

I'd wait for Joseph to wake up, and then see if he was hungry. 

In the meantime, I wandered off to the bathroom. I hadn't really showered yet, and hadn't exactly combed my hair before going to Mary's. I hoped I didn't look like too much of a wreck. Peeking in the mirror, I made a face at myself and touched my fingers to the grey hair of my temples. All my hair was grey. I always told Amanda that my hair had gone grey the day she started walking, but it had lost its color even before that.

It'd been grey before I'd even met my deceased partner, Alex. In fact, I was certain if I got out my high school yearbooks... it'd be grey even in those old photos.

Still, even knowing my hair had always been grey, it didn't stop Amanda from frequently pulling out a stray hair and warning me that she'd found a grey hair. I hated when she did that.

My fingers moved along my jaw, feeling the stubble forming there. I could shave. I should shave. I rummaged through the medicine cabinet, looking for shaving cream but coming up empty handed. My eyes slid towards the shower. Hadn't Amanda once said hair conditioner was a perfect substitute for shaving cream?

I retrieved the bottle from the shower, popping the cap and inhaling. _Mmm... strawberries_. Already I could tell that this would be better than shaving cream in every way.

 

~*~

 

“I didn't know you had glasses....”

Joseph caught me when I was deep in the throes of a word jumble, startling me when he spoke. My pen fell to the floor and rolled under the coffee table, where it would stay until either Amanda or I caved and decided to vacuum. 

Turning my attention towards Joseph, I wondered how long had he been awake.

“Half the time I don't know either,” I said, referencing my frequent habit of forgetting to wear my glasses. “They're... mostly for reading. Amanda says I should start wearing them when I drive too. She's probably right.”

“Hmm...” Joseph replied. 

“Uh... do you need anything? Water? Food? More pillows?”

Joseph shook his head, then paused. “A wet cloth might be nice,” he decided.

“It's a little early on in your illness to be asking for a sponge bath,” I remarked. “Nah, I tease—I know it's for your head.”

Joseph's cheeks had gained a deep flush, and I couldn't be sure if it was my comments or just the fever that had spurred it. I set my word jumbles down on the coffee table, rising and stretching before padding towards the hallway closet to retrieve a washcloth. I doused it in cold water, ringing it out enough that it wouldn't be dripping everywhere, but not so much that the cool water couldn't be felt inside. 

“So... how ya holding up?” I asked Joseph as I returned and placed the folded and damp cloth along his brow. He struggled to make eye contact and sighed.

“Been better.”

I forced a laugh and nodded. “Well, if you feel like you might throw up... let me know.” I sat back down, digging in the seat cushions until I found a new pen to continue my word jumble.

“Hey, Kay...”

“Huh?” I looked back over at Joseph, spinning the pen between my fingers.

“Is it easier being a parent when you're... older?”

“... it's the hair, isn't it?” I asked. “I promise, it's been this color since high school.”

Joseph gave a soft laugh and shook his head. “No... Craig mentioned you had a late start in life; college, love, you know. And, Amanda is graduating soon, right?”

“That snitch,” I complained, feigning disapproval at the information Craig had disclosed. “Yeah, I guess so. Decided to work for my parents for a bit after high school, try to save up some money so I wouldn't get out of college and have crushing debt. Don't worry, it didn't make me any less fun!”

“Yeah, I know... Craig's told me some of your wild stories too,” Joseph admitted.

I blushed a little. I hoped Craig hadn't told him about that one time, with the snow boots....

“I dunno. I think every parent is going to have their ups and downs with their kids—whether it's our age, or our kids' age, or anything in between...” I confessed. “I think, really, Amanda has always been a pretty easy kid to get along with. It was hard for a bit, I mean, when Alex passed away... but, I'm there for her and she's there for me. We've got each other.”

Joseph gave a halfhearted smile. “I hope I can have that with my kids someday.”

“Well, you and Christie seem to have something pretty special,” I pointed out. “Don't worry, you're a good father.”

“Thanks....”

 

~*~

 

It was getting late, and Amanda still wasn't home. How late was Mary going to stay out? Oh well, she wouldn't have been in any shape to watch the kids when she got home anyways.... Still, I got my phone out and sent Amanda a text.

_How's the high life?_

While waiting for her to respond, I opened my laptop and checked DadBook to see if anything new was happening. It look liked Damien was planning a wine tasting in his garden next week, and Mat had sent out a reminder about Trivia Night. Those could both be fun. I knew I had to pick at least one, or Amanda would scold me about staying in always and not making friends. It was just... kind of hard to socialize without Alex around.

Exhaling, I looked at the picture of Alex holding Amanda the day she was born. After finding it in a box while moving, I'd taken it into my room and put it in dark oak frame with gold bordering. He looked so happy that day, I would never forget it. 

Amanda looked so much like him, almost like she was born purely of him and there had never been a surrogate mother. We hadn't stayed in touch with our surrogate, or, at least, I hadn't... there was something strange to me about talking to her, knowing that _my_ daughter was, in a way, partly hers. Alex and I had never meant for us to know who was the parent, originally planning to use a surrogate and both of our sperm.

Unfortunately, it turned out that my grey hair wasn't the only thing that had aged faster than expected. I simply wasn't virile enough for kids, and the donation had fallen solely to Alex. I didn't regret that in the slightest: now, forever and for always, I would have a piece of Alex with me.

My phone made an obnoxious sound as it vibrated against the wood of my desk. It was Amanda.

_Hey dad. Mary just got home—some guy brought her. I think I'll be spending the night here... looks like she kinda needs a babysitter too._

I groaned: _Great, how much am I going to owe you for that?_

Amanda's reply was instant: _Ha! Just you wait! Night, pops!_

I smiled. She was a good kid, and I'd done my best to raise her right. Still, I couldn't help feeling she was a little young to be dealing with a drunk adult... I hoped she took it in stride, and realized that, sometimes, life just wasn't all it cracked up to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See y'all next Monday for the update!


	3. Tuesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's always a little awkward to have guests over, and even more so when they're ill.

I slept restlessly until about three in the morning, eventually rolling onto my side to watch the lights on my computer blink. If I squinted, I could pretend I was staring at a plane passing above my head in the night sky. I knew I was tired, but my thoughts just didn't want to turn off.

Was Joseph okay? Did he need anything? What if he was thirsty? How long until he was better? What about Amanda? How was she doing? Would Mary say anything in the morning?

I groaned and rubbed my jaw. My feet were touching the wood of my bedroom floor before I even realized it, my body following a “wake-up” routine that had been established years ago. There was a coffeepot downstairs, and I was going to it regardless of the hour.

While I made sure to walk as silently possible, moving on my tiptoes through the living room to the kitchen, Joseph still stirred on the couch as I passed by. I froze, ensuring he had not woken up, and began moving even slower towards the kitchen. I attempted to remove a spoon from the silverware drawer, but the fact that I had never purchased a silverware tray was making the task sound like a construction site. I winced repeatedly as I dug past forks and butter knives, eventually finding a spoon for the coffee canister.

Joseph stayed asleep throughout my coffee making, and I was grateful because I _really_ needed the coffee. Today felt like an extra creamer day, and by the time I was done it was almost impossible to tell that what I had might've been coffee at one point. I'd never done good without sugar....

Satisfied, I took my coffee and paused in the living room. Did I go back to my room? I didn't really want to go back to my room... worrying about Joseph was the entire reason I was awake. I shrugged and decided to sit in the armchair near Joseph. He shifted again, and I watched him carefully. Nope. Still asleep.

~*~

I got lost in a documentary about the influence of jazz music, followed by a documentary about the hunting techniques of various spiders (that one was going to give me nightmares), and then one about slang in Australia.

I was on my fourth documentary when Joseph moaned into his pillow and quietly mumbled my name.

My brows furrowed and I looked over at him. Maybe it hadn't been my name. Maybe he'd just been saying “'kay” like “okay”. 

“Uungh... Kay....”

I reddened a bit and continued trying to convince myself that he wasn't saying my name.

“K-Kingsley...”

I stiffened. Nope. That was _definitely_ my name. I scooted towards the edge of the armchair, moving closer to Joseph. “Yes, Joseph?” I asked. Maybe he was awake, and trying to get my attention?

He made a few more utterances of soft groans, his forehead creasing into worry lines. “Come...”

“Uh... I'm already right here?”

Joseph sighed, his face relaxing as he settled in further against his pillows. 

“Joseph? Jo? Helllooo?” I waved a hand in front of his face, but there was no response. He must've been having a bad dream or something. I shrugged and sat back to continue my documentary binge.

Amanda came home briefly around seven AM, but only to grab clothes and get ready for school. I was probably on my eighth documentary by now. She was a whirlwind as she moved through the house, jamming her feet into clean socks and tying her hair up as she crammed a waffle between her teeth. I tried to ask her how babysitting had gone last night, but she didn't reply.

“Hey dad! I need a suitcase for Mary's place, just until Joseph's better!” she said as she stuffed three pencil pouches into her backpack.

“What, why?”

“Uh, so I don't have to come over here before school to get ready—duh?”

I made a face at her for sassing me, and she made one back. “Fine... so what, like... shirts, pants, socks...??”

“That'll do, I'll get the rest myself after school!” she agreed, the zipper of her backpack punctuating her sentence before she ran out the door.

“She's fast...” Joseph commented. His hair was sticking up in every direction. Mine probably was too.

“Oh! You're awake!”

“Yeah... and kinda hungry, if you don't mind.” A small smile flickered across his face. He was already looking a bit better than yesterday.

“Oh, yeah, of course—uh... what do you want? Soup? Is it too early for soup?”

Joseph chuckled. “Just some toast will do, and some water,” he requested.

“Awesome! Even I, a dad with no cooking skills, can make that!” I teased.

“That's good... Mary always burns the toast,” Joseph said, only to immediately look guilty for saying it. I was surprised he would say anything bad about Mary, no matter how deserved, but I didn't comment. It was clear he was uncomfortable about having said it.

“Yeah, I'm really only good at like... three things. Toast, mac & cheese, and _pie_ ,” I said, emphasizing the word “pie”. I had a right to brag. My pies were excellent. Maybe not always the “prettiest”, but always excellent regardless.

“Oh... I like pie,” Joseph replied, his eyes following me as I got up and went to the kitchen to make his toast. 

“Well, when you're better, maybe I'll make you one. For your next church bake-sale, or something,” I offered, to Joseph's approval.

 

~*~

 

There were piles of tissues on the couch cushions and floor, and it wasn't even Joseph's fault. Sure, some were the results of his coughing fits along with sneezing and trying to stop a perpetually runny nose, but the majority were my own doing. For whatever reason, I thought today was a good day to watch “A Little Princess”.

“PAPA! PAPAAA!!”

Joseph was silent as we watched, his eyes wide as the little girl on screen screamed and cried out for her father. 

I was sobbing, my fist full of tissues as I watched alongside him. I'd seen this movie hundreds of times, thanks to my _own_ little princess, but still... this scene always got me. 

“SARAAH!!”

Joseph and I both let out relieved sighs. Even knowing it was all going to be okay, I was still nervous—as if, somehow, this time he wouldn't remember her and save her. Joseph handed me another tissue, and we blew our noses in sync.

“Oh go- _ooolly_ ,” I said, trying to stop myself from using the Lord's Name in Vain in front of Joseph. I made a good effort, but I'm sure he still knew what I'd meant to say. “I... I don't know why I watch this movie. It always does this to me!”

“It really makes you think,” Joseph said, blowing his nose again. “What would happen to my little ones if I was gone?”

“Hey hey, don't think about that stuff! Sarah's papa isn't gone, and neither are you,” I replied. “Just... shh. Watch the happy ending. Enjoy it.”

Joseph obeyed, falling silent for the rest of the movie except for the occasional cough, sniffle, or sneeze. As soon as the credits began to roll, he spoke again. “Do you have a will, Kay? I have one somewhere, but it needs updated. Chrish didn't exist when it was written, you know?”

I gave a solemn nod. “Ever since Alex... yeah, I have one,” I told him, hoping he'd chalk my tight voice up to crying from the movie, and not from thinking about how much losing Alex still hurt.

“Oh... of course. I'm sorry.” Joseph wrung his hands together and pulled on his fingers, the sound of his joints popping the only noise to fill the awkward silence. “Well... that's twice now I've accidentally brought up your... yeah. I'm sorry,” he repeated.

“Hey, don't worry about it. It's not like it's a bad thing to remember him,” I assured Joseph.

“Yeah, but I always manage to bring up how... he is... gone.”

I sighed. “Yeah. That's true.”

“Uh... do you have any cough syrup?”

“Oh, yeah—sure! Is your throat or head bothering you?”

“No, I just think I need to find a way to knock myself out before I say anything worse,” Joseph laughed. “Though, I'm sure by this point you'd be willing to just hit me.”

I snorted. “I'm not gonna hit you,” I replied. “Um... how about, since I'm thinking about Alex anyways, we do something Alex and I used to do?”

Joseph looked a little perplexed, and I realized how my offer might have sounded.

Blushing, I apologized quickly. “I'm not propositioning you, I promise!”

“Oh. Good. Because... Mary,” Joseph said haltingly.

“Yeah. Mary.”

We both averted our eyes from each other, too embarrassed by our own awkwardness to make eye contact any longer. The movie credits had ended and the screen had returned to the title menu of the DVD. The same three scenes kept playing over and over in the background with music that always seemed to cut off right before the good part. I finally turned it off, telling myself I'd put the disc away later—a blatant lie. I'd find that disc in three weeks when I decided to watch a different movie.

“I was, uh, talking about chess... by the way,” I told Joseph. “Alex and I used to play all the time.”

“Oh! Chess! Sure, I like chess.”

I gave a groan. “Don't tell me that! If you _like_ it, you're probably _good_ at it!” I complained.

“Well, if you and Alex used to play all the time... you're probably pretty good yourself.”

I scoffed. “I've honestly never won a single game. Not even against Amanda. Not even when she was _three_.”

“Oh wow! She must be quite good then!”

I laughed loudly and got up. There were at least three places I could think of where I might've put the chessboard when we unpacked. “She's terrible too—it doesn't take a lot to be better than me.”

“We'll see... hey, Kay?” Joseph asked as I opened the hall closet to search the shelves.

“Mhmm?”

“Do you have any tea, perhaps? My throat is really killing me.”

The chessboard was definitely not in the hall closet. I shut the door and nodded to Kay. “Sure, Alex used to drink tea all the time. I know I've got a lot around still....”

“Oh! Uh... no, you don't have to give me... I mean, it was his....”

I shrugged. “Don't worry—it's just your every day grocery store tea. Nothing fancy. Besides, Amanda and I aren't going to drink it.”

“Right,” Joseph said, “you're both coffee people, huh?”

“Correct,” I agreed, moving into the kitchen to hunt down the box of tea that I knew was in the cupboards somewhere. It didn't take long to find it—Alex had always kept his teas in a personal little wooden box because it was “messy to store them all in separate boxes”. Even though we had only moved in recently, the box still had already gained a light coating of dust—a testament to mine and Amanda's avoidance of the tea box. 

“Alright, let's see... we've got a nice lemon tea, an earl gray, some green tea, chai... an an-an...an-is...” I struggled with the word, recognizing it but failing to pronounce it correctly. “It tastes like black licorice,” I finally said, giving up. I remembered the taste from the one time I'd had tea. Alex had insisted I drink it the time I'd gotten strep throat thanks to Amanda. “I think you should pick the black licorice one—it helps sore throats,” I informed Joseph.

“Oh... I don't really like black licorice. I'll just do the earl gray,” Joseph decided.

“Mmkay,” I agreed. I set aside the earl gray packet and moved to fill the kettle. Maybe I'd have some hot chocolate, since I'd have the water on hand already.... “Hey, I'll be right back—I'm gonna go look around for the chess set.”

Joseph gave a nod and relaxed against the couch cushions. His color looked a little better today than it had yesterday. 

 

~*~

 

“Is this really necessary?” Joseph asked as I stared at the small screen of a thermometer.

“Of course it is. Yesterday you were sweating up a storm—just because you're not today, doesn't mean your fever is gone,” I answered. “Aaand... okay... ready.” I moved to hand the thermometer to Joseph, but was caught of guard when he simply leaned towards me and opened his mouth.

Shyly, I inserted the thermometer beneath his tongue and his lips clamped down around it quickly. Unable to talk now, he merely watched me—was he messing with me? I watched him back. His nose was chapped from blowing it so often... I cleared my throat and looked away. “Uh... won't be long now...” I mumbled. 

The time it took for the thermometer to beep seemed like forever, Joseph beginning to look uncomfortable from the thermometer under his tongue. At last, it chirped loudly and I removed it from Joseph's mouth without thinking.

“Aha—see? Still feverish!” I exclaimed as I looked at the results. He was sitting just on the edge of having a temperature of one-hundred. I'd never thought to take his temperature yesterday, a fact I regretted.  
Joseph glanced at the thermometer reading and sighed. “Well, I don't _feel_ feverish.”

“Probably because you're over the worst of it... geeze, how did it even get this bad in the first place?” 

Joseph shrugged. “I had to watch the kids. Mary's busy, I couldn't just ask her to take time off to look after both me and the kids....”

“Well, no, but you could've at least rested a little... like, maybe asked someone else to run Youth Group or called Amanda to babysit?” I pointed out.

“Don't lecture me, Kay...” Joseph grumbled.

“Well... if you hadn't run yourself ragged, I wouldn't have to,” I scolded. 

Joseph made a face. “Let's place chess.”

“Now?”

“Yeah, you said we were going to... so let's,” Joseph insisted.

“We were. You were the one who fell asleep after half a cup of tea,” I reminded him.

Joseph rolled his eyes and sniffed before rubbing his raw nose. “Yeah yeah... if I win, you stop parenting me,” he challenged.

“You already know you're going to win!” I said, getting up to fetch the chessboard. I'd found it while Joseph was napping. Apparently, at some point I'd hidden the thing beneath my bed. The only logic I could think of for doing so was that I'd run out of other more reasonable places to store it.

“Pshaw... I can't trust my opponent when he says he's bad. It could be a trap.” Joseph pushed himself up on the couch cushions and looked at the coffee table. Reaching towards it, he easily pulled the entire table closer to the couch with just one hand. I was suddenly acutely aware of just how in shape he really was....

Joseph moved a few things around on the coffee table to make room for the board, and I hurried to set it up.

“Hope you don't mind if I play black,” he said, already moving the board so that he could access his preferred color.

“I've got no objections,” I commented. “Besides, white moves first. That ought to give me a small advantage, right?”

Joseph snorted in response. “Okay, maybe you really are as bad as you say you are if you believe that....”

“Hey. Jesus frowns upon lying,” I said. “I learned that from you.”

Joseph gave a short laugh and rubbed at his nose again. He winced when he did, and I knew it probably stung. I would have to buy better tissues if this kept up.

Staring down at the chessboard, I selected one of my knights and moved it in a forward “L” direction. Joseph eyed it and moved the pawn before his king forward by two spaces.

Thinking, I chose to copy him so that my pawn stood directly before his with nowhere to go. In response, he moved one of his own knights to stand guard nearby. I thought I was being clever by moving another pawn forward, but his knight soon captured it. Already he was winning.

But! There was a move! I giddily moved my knight and captured his. Ha!

Joseph smirked, sliding his bishop across the board until it was diagonal from my king. “You're in trouble...” he taunted.

I hastily moved my king forward, out of the line of attack. For now. With a little clever maneuvering, I was able to take out one of his bishops in the next two moves, which relieved me. I'd always hated the bishops....

We continued exchanging pieces, both of us surprisingly quiet as we focused. I seemed to be doing pretty alright—I'd taken his queen, and both his rooks and bishops. All he was left with was a handful of pawns and his king. I was sure to win!

He slid his king around numerous times as I continued to gain ground, my rooks taking out his pawns left and right. Then... it finally happened. 

He gave a defeated sigh, and I took his king. 

“Yes! Alright! First victory, uh-huh! Oh yeah!” I cheered, jumping up to dance around a little.

“Hey, I thought you knew Jesus dislikes lying,” Joseph reminded me. “You said you were bad at this.”

“I am! If I was good, I wouldn't be dancing—I'd be numb to this feeling by now,” I replied, continuing to flail around in victory. 

“Ew. Dad dance moves,” Amanda commented, catching us both off guard when she walked in the door.

I stopped dancing abruptly, straightening my clothes out and shrugging. “I beat Joseph at chess,” I told her triumphantly.

“It was an invigorating match, he certainly deserves the celebration,” Joseph commented. 

“Aw, nice Pops! Your first win!” Amanda gave me a thumbs up and dropped her backpack on the floor. “I'm just here to get the rest of my stuff and go over to the Christiansen's place. Gotta help with the kiddos, yanno,” she told us as she moved into the kitchen to find a snack. She located a poptart within seconds and vanished to her room just as quickly.

“She really does a great disappearing act. I've witnessed it a few times now,” Joseph remarked.

“Yeah... something about food in her mouth seems to increase the ability. She's like a cat when they steal some food off your plate... runs off and scarfs it down before you can even say a word.”

“Ah. I see. Well, don't let me forget to thank your daughter for helping Mary with the kids....”

“Ehh... you'll have a hard time cornering her just to say that. I'll let her know you appreciate it, though,” I offered.

“Well, that will have to do. Thank you. Your family is really something, helping mine out like this... if I can repay you at all, in any way, please let me know,” Joseph said, his eyes dropping to the floor as he spoke. 

“Hey... something on your mind?” I asked, noticing the heavy atmosphere beginning to form.

“Oh, no! No. Let's, uh... let's play another game,” he suggested, already resetting the chessboard.

“Sure, sure... uh, but first... sorry, your nose just looks...” I pointed out. “Let me... let me help you.”

Joseph sniffed and gave me a funny look. “What's wrong with my nose?”

“Well, it hurts, right?” 

“Yeah. You have kind of bad tissues, sorry to say,” Joseph replied. 

“That's what I get for being cheap. I'll pick up some better ones in the morning, promise. For now though... hang on,” I said, gesturing to him that I'd be back in less than a minute. I hurried to Amanda's room, knocking on the door and waiting for her to invite me in.

“'Sup, Dad?” Amanda asked. She was refolding all of the items I'd previously packed for her, and even putting some back. Apparently, I had terrible taste in shirts.

“Hey kiddo, got a favor to ask... got any plain chap-stick you don't care about?” I requested.

“Uhhh... plain, not so much... but I got a nice vanilla, if you want?”

“Oh, I thought vanilla was your favorite though?” I mentioned, frowning as she handed me the small tube.

“Yeah, it is—but you get me one like... every holiday. So, I've got a bunch. One less? Not a problem. 'Sides—I'm wearing mocha lately,” she said, pulling a mocha scented chap-stick from her coat pocket to prove her point.

“Oh! Look at you, branching out!”

“Well, you know me... I like combos. Coffee and chap-stick? Like a robot dog. Desirable and necessary to my life,” she joked. “Is that all ya need, Dad?”

“Yep... thanks, 'Manda Panda. Behave yourself out there,” I said with a nod to her suitcase.

She finger-gunned at me in response and I left, returning to Joseph with the chap-stick in hand.

“Sorry, it's vanilla... hold still, please,” I said, uncapping it and leaning towards Joseph. He tensed as I grasped his jaw to steady his face, gently applying chap-stick around the red and raw parts of his nose. “Oh, wow, your face is really red... I hope your fever isn't spiking again,” I said worriedly.

Joseph pulled out of my grip quickly and coughed, his eyes snapping towards the chessboard and away from me. “No! No, I'm fine. My nose feels much better now, and, if I could smell currently, I'm sure the vanilla would smell nice... thanks.” He picked up his king, twisting it in his fingers before setting it down again. “So... another game, right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt like once a week is just too far between updates for such a short story.  
> So, I've decided to update on Mondays and Fridays.
> 
> See ya'll Monday for the update!


	4. Wednesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kingsley is improving his care-taking abilities, but the line between care-taking and _caring_ is growing progressively blurred.

With a little help from a strong cough syrup, Joseph was still out cold when I got up in the morning and left for the grocery store. 

I'd promised him some better tissues, and I was no promise breaker. Besides, he seemed to be on the path of recovery... he was probably hungry; I could get some chicken noodle soup and some crackers for him while I was there. And some chips. Pizza. Burger patties... cookies, pickles, pasta....

Crap. I'd forgotten to eat breakfast. My stomach growled unhappily as I pulled into the parking lot of the supermarket. I should've made a grocery list—why did I never make grocery lists? Alex had repeatedly proved their usefulness... _he'd_ never bought another bag of pancake mix when we already had an unopened one at home.

Oh well. The extra pancakes _had_ come in handy. Eventually. 

I dug my phone from my pocket and sent Amanda a text: _Anything you want from the store? I'm shopping._

It wasn't until after I'd sent the text that I remembered she was in school, and probably wouldn't respond anytime soon.

At least, I thought so until my phone went off: _I. Need. Marshmallows!_

Looking at the response, I decided I simply wasn't going to ask and gave a quick reply: _Okay. Don't text in school._

In return, she sent me a little face sticking its tongue out.

A rapping on my car window startled me, and I looked up to see Brian waving at me. I had to wait for him to move out of the way in order to open my car door and get out, but the moment I did he slapped me hard on the shoulder in greeting.

“Alright! You runnin' low on stuff?” Brian asked cheerfully while I rubbed my shoulder. It _stung_.

“Uh, not particularly... just need a few things,” I answered. Great. He was the last person I wanted around while shopping... he'd probably be checking out my cart and eyeing every item I chose and just be _judging me_ the entire time. 

“Ha! Yeah, I like to stay pretty well stocked. Makes it less of a chore when I do need to pick up some items,” he bragged.

It seemed like a reasonable statement, but it was the _way_ he said it. I just knew he was trying to make a point. What was it? That I was an irresponsible shopper? Well, yeah, probably. I didn't even have a list.

Oh god. I didn't have a list. He was going to notice that too.

Brian walked with me to the grocery store, his big fists curling around the handle of a shopping cart as we passed through the doors. He eyed me as I picked up a small basket, but whatever comment he had he decided to hold back. I was grateful.

A small part of me held onto the hope that Brian would go his own way once we hit the aisles, but that hope was dashed as he continued to follow me. 

“Daisy is participating in her school's science fair—she's so smart, she killed it last year,” Brian mentioned as he pushed his cart alongside me. 

“Oh, wow...” I mumbled, turning down an aisle. Brian stayed with me.

“Yeah, she is going to make Borax crystals this year,” he replied. His hands were grabbing things off shelves and filling his cart while his eyes never once turned from me, and I was left wondering if he was just randomly selecting items or if he had memorized the layout of the store and just _knew_ where the things he wanted would be.

“Borax crystals? Like the kind you grow on pipe cleaners?” I asked, recalling a similar thing Amanda had done once. “Amanda made rock candy once,” I blurted out. “To, uh, to study... crystals... in an edible format.”

Brian gave me a funny look. “Yeah... whoa, whoa, hold up buddy,” Brian said, stopping me from putting a pack of tissues into my basket. “What are you doing? Those are no good.”

“What? Why?” I asked, looking at the tissues again. “They're two-ply?”

“Yeah, but do you really think that's gonna help when you're bawling your eyes out at Amanda's graduation and blowing your nose like crazy?”

“Oh, uh, these aren't for...”

Brian stopped me again, grabbing a different package of tissues off the shelf and tossing them in my basket without my consent. “Trust me. Lotion infused is the way to go—no matter the situation, those babies got your back.”

I suppressed a scowl and politely thanked him. He was probably right, but that was now two people I could blame my dental problems on. I watched Brian load a massive box of Borax into his cart, silently passing my own judgment as I did.

It turned out to be a blessing that I was only shopping for a few items, as I managed to fill my basket quicker than Brian could fill his cart and soon I was checking out. Any desire I'd had to buy unnecessary food items had been quelled by Brian's constant talking and boasting alongside his unending bellowing laughs. 

I'd heard quite enough about his career and his daughter and his dog and everything else “Brian” over the course of thirty minutes—thirty minutes that _would have_ only been ten _if_ Brian hadn't insisted on questioning every item in my basket and replacing it with “superior” alternatives. Brian had suggested I use the self-checkout lanes to finish my shopping, as it would be faster. Out of spite, I told him I preferred interacting with a cashier, as it was less impersonal.

It was a blatant lie, and I was left to suffer with my decision and approach a human being while checking out. But, at least the cashier seemed to share my mutual desire to _not_ interact. Her only words were “Did you find everything today?”, “Debit or Credit?”, and “Paper or Plastic?” I gave her one-word responses and rushed to return home before Brian had a chance to catch me in the parking lot again.

 

~*~

 

I hated admitting Brian was right, but Joseph did seem a lot happier with the lotion-infused tissues. Even though I wanted to complain about my shopping experiences with the man, I managed to suppress the desire. Joseph would probably frown upon my grumblings.

“Thanks for going out and getting these...” Joseph said after blowing his nose again. “I really appreciate it.”

“Yeah, it was no problem—I had some groceries I was in need of anyways,” I replied. “Amanda, for whatever reason, is desperate for marshmallows.”

He nodded his head and then made a face.

“Something wrong?” I asked, pausing what I had been working on. It'd been a bit of an impulse purchase, but, after trying to get a spoon without waking up Joseph the other morning, I'd finally given in and bought a silverware tray along with a few small tension rods. I'd seen a short video about how they could be used for organizing pots and pans, and there was nothing louder and more in need of organizing than pots and pans.

Joseph grimaced. “Just... the usual illness related things. Head feels heavy, can only breathe out of one side of my nose, and my body just... hurts.” He sighed and tried blowing his nose again, though it had no affect on his stuffed up status. “Being sick is awful.”

I hummed in agreement and bent down to pull open the cupboard doors beneath the sink. “Hang on... I think I have something that might help,” I offered.

“I'm looking for relief, not death,” Joseph remarked sharply when I put a bottle of bleach on the counter.

I turned around and raised an eyebrow. “Do you really think that's what I'm suggesting?” I asked. “Have a little faith... ah, here were go!” I exclaimed as I pulled a bottle of vodka out from beneath the sink. 

Joseph looked somewhat shocked, but the expression faded as it morphed into skepticism. “Why do you have vodka with your cleaning supplies?”

“Oh, Alex and I figured out forever ago that if you want to hide something from Amanda... you put it with the cleaning supplies. She won't even bother looking anywhere a sponge or disinfectant might be,” I explained. 

“Ha! I wonder if that would work on Mary,” Joseph remarked.

I instantly tensed, but this time Joseph didn't seem at all worried about speaking of his wife in such a way. Still, I felt it was better to forget about the comment and keep my mouth shut about Joseph's wife. “So... how do you want your vodka? With juice... or jello...?” I asked, offering Joseph potential options. Of course, there was still the chance he wouldn't want any vodka at all. He was more of a tequila guy, from what I knew of him.

“Well, doctor, why don't you give me a shot?” The suggestion was almost flirtatious, and I felt my skin pimple in response. 

“Oh, yeah, uh okay...” I agreed, hunting through the cupboards for a shot glass. I knew there had to be some, since Amanda had insisted we buy them for her dolls to use as cups when she was younger. I managed to locate one with a picture of Alaska on it. Weird, since we'd never been anywhere near Alaska.

Taking the shot glass and the vodka bottle over to Joseph, I set both on the coffee table before him. 

“Wait, wait, wait... I can't do a shot alone,” Joseph protested while eyeing the solitary shot glass. 

“But I'm not sick,” I pointed out.

“So? Come on. Get a glass for yourself. You can toast to my health—maybe I'll recover faster,” Joseph teased. I gave a halfhearted attempt at turning him down, but in the end I did find another shot glass; I couldn't say no to a sick person!

I poured us each one, and Joseph shifted to one edge of the couch and gestured for me to sit beside him. I did so, handing him the Alaskan shot glass and staring at the one left in my own hands.

“Isn't it considered malpractice for doctors to take their patients medicine?” I asked. It was my final attempt to stop myself from what I was about to do, and I wasn't sure it was even a genuine attempt.

“We'll handle the lawsuit later...” Joseph said.

“You seem awfully eager about... this,” I mentioned, raising my shot glass slightly in indication. He seemed more than eager. He seemed desperate. 

“Hey, you offered a miserable man some vodka for his troubles. Don't be surprised that I took the bait,” he retorted. “C'mon, bottoms up.”

On cue, we both downed the liquid. Joseph immediately began coughing, and I licked my lips where they felt numb from the vodka's touch.

“Oh god, this is not good vodka,” Joseph managed to state as he coughed and cleared his throat.

I laughed and nodded in agreement. “Yeah. It was only like... eight bucks.”

“Why buy such poor quality?” He rubbed his finger along his lower lip, attempting to stimulate some feeling back into the area.

I cast my eyes downward at the floor, suddenly recalling why I had bought the bottle in the first place. “It... uh... I bought it to help me after Alex passed,” I finally admitted. “Didn't matter the quality... I just wanted to sleep.”

“How did he die?”

Joseph's direct phrasing caught me off guard, and I felt my fingers dig into my thighs a bit. “Uhm... he...” I started, but Joseph gestured for me to wait.

He poured us two more shots and handed me one of the glasses. We gulped them down quickly, recovering faster this time now that we knew what to expect.

“He had a stroke,” I told Joseph, finishing my previously interrupted sentence as I set my empty shot glass on the coffee table. “It was... it was very sudden.”

Joseph fiddled with the shot glass in his fingers and rolled it between his palms as he reflected on my words. “I'm really sorry, Kay,” he said solemnly, “But, it looks like you've done a fine job with Amanda... you're a strong person, you know?”

I gave a weak laugh and refilled our shot glasses. “Yeah... I love her. She's all I've got left of him. You know her laugh is _identical_ to his? Kind of incredible....”

“I hope my kids share parts of me... I'd feel like a failure if I'd given them nothing,” Joseph commented, and I unintentionally laughed a little too loud. He gave me a quizzical look for my laughter, and I took another drink before wiping the excess vodka off my lips and answering.

“Your kids all look just like you,” I told him, and he chuckled softly.

“Yeah, I know, but I mean... I want them to share other parts of me too, you know? Like my hobbies... or favorite foods... or sense of humor?” he suggested. He was already pouring two more shots for us, and I wondered if that was such a good idea. I was beginning to feel a little funny, like I was possibly floating. Or my head was, anyways. But, it felt _good_ and I was having fun....

“Well, I think that comes from just being around them—you'll be fine,” I assured him as he handed me the next shot. He did not move to drink his, and I paused as well—it was bad manners to proceed without your drinking buddy. 

Joseph stared at the drink in his hands and sighed. “I... I've been sleeping on my boat,” he confessed.

“What? Why?” I asked. I almost spilled some of my vodka as I spoke, and I was grateful when Joseph raised his glass and we both let the vodka run down our throats. 

“Mary and I... well, it's probably no surprise... but we're not doing very well,” he said, clearing his throat and lowering his head.

“But... but you were in your bed when I came to get you?” I said disbelievingly.

Joseph shook his head and shut his eyes. “That was an accident. I was just tidying up the bedroom—gotta keep up appearances, you know—and then I passed out... Mary was... is... mad,” he said, correcting himself as he went. “She should be. It's my fault, you know... the problems we're having.”

I frowned, unable to imagine how this man could possibly be responsible for Mary's bitter behavior and cruel comments. “I think you're being too hard on yourself—you're a good man, I've seen-”

Joseph scoffed loudly and set his shot glass down with a little more force than necessary. “You're new here, Kay. You don't... you're wrong. Everyone else knows it. You're going to figure it out too, eventually...” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose as he spoke.

“Figure what out?” I queried. I didn't understand a word he was saying, and I wasn't sure if it was because of the vodka or if he really just wasn't making sense.

“This,” Joseph replied.

He moved abruptly, his lips pressing against mine before I could even react. My lips, previously tingling from the alcohol, now burned from the shock of the sudden kiss. The taste of vodka on my tongue was renewed by his lips, and I hastily jerked away in shock.

“What are you doing!?” My heart was pounding so hard, I felt like it was going to burst through my ribs. I was scared, but... I wasn't sure it was for the right reasons.

The whites of Joseph's eyes sharply contrasted the blue of his irises as he stared at me, a different sort of fear overcoming him as we looked between each other. “I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have. I, I thought,” he began to sputter. “Please, forgive me... I... I'm sick.”

The feeling of his lips on mine hadn't vanished, and I found myself staring at the vodka bottle and gauging how much was left. “Joseph...” I said softly. 

“Look, I don't want to talk about it... let's just forget it ever happened.” His tone was firm, but I couldn't help the gnawing desire to disobey his demands.

“I don't want to forget it,” I told him, and his eyes flashed as he looked up at me. “I don't think people should stay in situations that make them unhappy... you deserve to be happy.”

Relief spread through his body, his shoulders lowering as he relaxed. I watched him grab the vodka bottle, this time drinking directly from it before passing it to me. I accepted, telling myself that if I was drunk it was somehow okay. I was lying to myself. It wasn't okay, but I desperately wanted it to be.

Joseph reached for me, but hesitated. I _had_ pushed him away once already. Now it was my turn to do something, and I grasped his chin between my fingers and felt the stubble there rub against my skin. 

The kiss was clumsy. It could easily be blamed on our inebriation, but there was a layer of fear to our actions as we bumped our teeth together. What if someone saw? The blinds were closed, but what if... what if they _knew_? 

Joseph's concerns seemed to be dissipating with each kiss, his only fear having been what I might have done or said. But, now that I had given in, he no longer worried. His hands pulled me closer, insisting I give him my focus while his teeth tugged at my bottom lip. His tongue pressed against my teeth, demanding entrance until I gave in to that as well.

Damn. 

I stopped thinking about the neighbors. I stopped thinking at all, my lips leaving Joseph's in order to trail down his throat and suck against his skin. I wanted to mark him. I wanted to make him mine in some way, and I latched my teeth onto his skin to do so.

He hissed in response, pushing his throat into the bite to alleviate some of the pain from its pull. I did it again, Joseph's fingers digging into my backside in response. 

“K-Kingsley...” Joseph murmured, my thoughts jumping back to the morning when he'd spoken my name in his sleep. He'd said it so similarly, and I found the memory jarring enough to pull away. Had... had he been dreaming of this? 

“We... we should stop,” I insisted, struggling to breathe right. “It's not that! It's just, you're sick—I want you to get better,” I assured Joseph hastily when he began to deflate at my words. He gave an eventual nod of agreement, and I got up to put the vodka away. It was difficult to walk right.

“Hey, Kay?” Joseph called as I tried my best to clean up. “You're not... you're not mad at me, right?”

I shook my head, and immediately regretted the action. It did _not_ feel good. “No, no I'm not mad.”

 

~*~

 

The vodka had done what it was supposed to do. Joseph eventually crashed, and I had to stumble my way to my room to do the same. What had I been thinking? I couldn't just... it was wrong to do this to Mary. I was suddenly beginning to understand just _what_ had made her so mean. And yet, I couldn't seem to help myself in contributing to the problem.

I wanted to as much as Joseph did.... 

I was an idiot. I was a jerk for doing this to Mary. She'd asked me to take care of her husband, and now I knew that, really, that had been pretty kind of her. She still cared, to some degree, about his well-being. I wasn't sure if I would be able to do even that if my partner had cheated on me... which was disgusting, since here I was... _wanting_ to help Joseph be unfaithful again.

I flopped onto my bed and loathed myself for my behavior until my thoughts drifted back to Alex, the taste of cheap vodka encouraging them. I missed him. I hadn't really thought about being with anyone else since I'd lost him, and now... it felt sort of like I was cheating on him too. 

It wasn't fair. I deserved to be happy. So did Joseph.

I fell asleep trying to convince myself that what I was doing, what _we_ were doing, was okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See y'all Friday for the update!


	5. Thursday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Kingsley's desires towards Joseph grow stronger, he finds he needs to know just _what_ there is is in a future with Joseph, if there is anything at all.

I woke up to the sound of the shower running. My first thought was Amanda, but she wasn't home. My second thought was how much my head was killing me. I groaned and rubbed my face before forcing myself to get up.

Yesterday had been a bad idea. Vodka had been a bad idea. Kissing Joseph had...

I couldn't bring myself to finish the thought. It hadn't felt bad. It still didn't feel bad. I didn't _want_ it to. The memory of Joseph's lips on mine, his skin warm beneath my hands and the sounds he'd made when I bit him... these thoughts easily crowded out any feelings of remorse. 

Wandering down the hall, the bathroom door was cracked open to allow better ventilation. Or a better view. Joseph was there, clothing removed and toned ass on display as he felt the shower water and ensured it was a good temperature before he dared get in.

My cheeks burned, and I scolded myself for peaking. To think, earlier this week I thought the worse I could do was imagine Joseph in his pink underwear.... 

Joseph leaned heavily against the wall suddenly, his chest rising and falling deeply as he struggled to breathe past his clogged nose. He coughed, and the sound was wet and mucus filled. I felt pity for him—he was in no shape to be up and moving around like this.

“Kay?” Joseph suddenly called, startling me. Had he seen me!?

I moved away from the door, hiding around the corner and berating myself for my behavior.

“Kay! I need help!” he hollered. There was a tinge of hopelessness coating his voice, and I composed myself as best I could before approaching the door again and knocking my knuckles lightly against its wood.

“Joseph?” I asked, “May I enter?”

“P... please...” he requested, and I pushed past the already ajar door. “I... I'm sorry about this,” he said as my eyes fell upon his bare skin. “I just... I need help, and I'm sorry for asking... but, please....”

He was almost begging, as though he thought that I might abandon him when he so evidently needed me.

“Yeah, sure, what can I do?” I asked, even though I already knew. I quietly removed my own clothing, careful of where I put my hands as I helped Joseph into the shower and followed after him. He immediately placed his forearms against the wall beneath the shower head, leaning forwards to let the water pour down upon him as his forehead just barely grazed the wall tiling.

Even though the water was warm, I could see him occasionally shiver beneath it. Was his fever worse? Or was it the body aches? I put a hand on his backside and stroked along his spine, hoping to rub some of the pain away if possible. He was quiet in response, dedicating his energy to just the simple act of standing.

After awhile, I realized Joseph was probably going to need a little more help than just a back rub. I twisted in the shower, looking behind me for the shampoo. Where had it gone? Amanda had better not have taken it with her to the Christiansen's place....

Wait, no, it was there—sitting in the corner of the tub, just past Joseph's torso. I reached around Joseph to fetch the bottle, squeezing a generous amount onto my palm before trying to move Joseph out from under the water. It was difficult with one hand. I had not thought this through very well. Then again, I'd never really had to do this before....

Joseph wound up turning towards me and leaning against me as though I too were a wall built for his support, and I applied the shampoo to his hair and learned of its thickness. It was easy to tangle my fingers into his locks as I massaged the shampoo through them, and I found myself thinking what it would be like to run my hands through his hair later, with him under me.... 

I'd been doing fine so far with controlling myself, but now I could feel certain _areas_ beginning to flood with warmth. I hurriedly re-positioned Joseph against the shower wall again so that he wouldn't see. “I... uh I have a better idea,” I suggested, reaching above him to pull the shower head down from its hook and utilize the fact that it had a hose. This would be easier anyways, since Joseph's weight wouldn't be threatening to make me potentially slip and fall. For some reason, I was willing to bet that no amount of rubber ducks glued to the bottom of the bathtub was going to prevent a fall of that sort.... 

 

~*~

 

Somehow I managed to survive the shower with Joseph, eventually getting him dressed and back onto the couch. If I'd thought _I_ was suffering from my hangover, Joseph was there to prove me wrong. After getting him on the couch again, I set him up with some hot tea and turned on the TV for a distraction. 

“Thanks for helping me,” Joseph mumbled eventually. “But I shouldn't have asked that of you, and you shouldn't have... you shouldn't have agreed.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, pulling my gaze away from the TV to look at Joseph.

“Look... last night, that was a mistake. I shouldn't have done that. I know that.” Joseph shook his head as he spoke, lingering drops of water falling from his hair as he did. 

My chest felt tight from his words, and I tried to control whatever expression of disappointment my face was surely displaying. “Joseph...” I started.

“Look, I just wanted to know. I only asked so I could know.”

“Know _what_?” I had been prepared to accept his rejection, but his further statements only served to puzzle and upset me. What could he possibly learn from me agreeing to help him?

“I thought... I thought it had just been the vodka's influence. But then I asked you for help, and you agreed... even without it. I just wanted to know how you really felt. And I know now,” Joseph furthered, and I felt bitterness rise up like bile in my throat. 

“You were _testing_ me?” I asked. “You...! I...!” My “train of thought” felt less like a train and more like a railroad switch being yanked back and forth, uncertain of which path to choose as I sputtered in reply. 

“It was wrong, Kay, I'm sorry. It's wrong. I'm married.”

“Unhappily,” I snapped. 

I immediately wanted to take it back, regret burrowing its way through my mind for the thoughtless comment. Joseph seemed taken aback by it as much as I was, and I opened my mouth to try and make amends. “You shouldn't be unhappy. It's not fair to you. And... what you want... it's always going to make Mary unhappy, right? You can't win. One of you is always going to be miserable. I just... it's not fair.”

Well, that had definitely not been the apology I was trying to make.... I bit my cheek and waited for Joseph's reply, my every move revealing just how uncomfortable I was. My leg was causing the coffee table to jostle as I bounced it anxiously, and I stared at a corner of the ceiling rather than look at Joseph. 

“What are you saying, Kingsley?” Joseph queried. There was nothing romantic about his usage of my full first name this time. His tone seemed dangerous, but I couldn't just say nothing.

“Just that... well, if this is what it's like when you're already doing everything you can to fix it... what's the point? She's not letting it go. For gods-sake you're sleeping on a boat, Joseph... you're miserable, and she's making you miserable. You didn't just... you must've had a reason....” My nails were digging into my palms as I curled my hands into fists. Was I trying to justify his cheating?

“Do you think you could make me happy, Kingsley?”

The question was unfair. Everything about the situation was unfair. Still, I found myself uttering a response. “I want to...”

The cushions of the couch shifted beneath us, Joseph adjusting himself until his head was in my lap and the dampness of his hair seeped through my pants until I could fill the chill against my skin. I thoughtlessly put my hand to his head, combing through his hair with my fingers. This was somewhat similar to my daydreams from earlier. The weight of his head in my lap was comforting.

“Why are you doing this to me...” I murmured. 

“I ask the same of God in my prayers, every night.”

 

~*~

 

I received a text from Amanda's teacher while Joseph was sleeping, my hands absently stroking his head as he dozed in my lap. I knew Hugo was more than just the teacher of my child, but still I struggled to view him as the neighbor he also was. It was like trying to be close with your lawyer; weird and possibly condemning. If I got close, he would learn way too much about mine and Amanda's lives and she would probably hate me for exposing her secrets.

So I kept my distance as much as possible, and waited for the usual teacher things—phonecalls about rowdy behavior, e-mails regarding parent/teacher conferences, and, now, apparently text messages about vandalized artwork.

_Mister Altman,_  
I would normally e-mail, as you k now, but this seemed note urgent. Thete has been an incident at the school, and I am worried about Thor daughter. Someone destroyed the project she had been working on here at the school, and it seemed like it was a piece that mattered very much to get.  
Please let me kniw if there is anything I can do. 

I kept rereading the text. There were so many typos. Was this normal for a teacher?? Even though I knew Amanda should be my first priority, I couldn't help myself as I responded: _Is something wrong with your phone?_

Hugo was quick to reply: _No—I decided it was time for Ernest to have his own phone. So, I upgraded my phone plan, bought a new phone, and gave my old one to Ernest. The new one has a bigger keyboard._

I laughed. It seemed a little mean to hype a kid up about a phone, then give them your old one. But, I'd met Ernest and knew he was rotten and would be ungrateful either way. I hoped Hugo was using the phone to track his kid's whereabouts. He deserved it.

I kept those particular thoughts to myself, texting Hugo back again only to assure him that I would handle things with Amanda. He sent a smiley face back, and I was glad he couldn't see my genuine facial expressions of discomfort: he was way too friendly for someone in charge of educating my kid.

Still, I was glad he'd reached out to me to let me know about Amanda. She hadn't told me of any new projects, and lately she had been hiding an awful lot from me. No matter how much she said she was “fine”, I knew it wasn't true. But, I couldn't just pester answers out of her... that tactic had been fine when Alex was alive and around to balance things out and stop me when I went too far.

Now I had to wait. I could ask all I wanted, but Amanda would never relinquish an answer she wasn't ready to give, and pushing her would just make things worse. I couldn't stand the thought of pushing her to the point that she became closed to me....

Still, I had a duty as a father. To both Amanda, and Alex. 

_Hey kiddo. Your teacher told me something happened at school today... wanna talk about it?_

It didn't take long for my phone to buzz in my hands: _It's nothing. I'm fine. G2G, the twins are screaming for macaroni and Mary won't be home until late. Night, pops!_

I sighed. Hopefully she would talk to me when she was ready.

To comfort myself, I daydreamed scenarios where she would absolutely need me while in college. And I would be there for her, whether if it was because she had to drop a class, or ran out of meals on her card, or because she was experiencing her first real finals, I would always be there to have her back.

 

~*~

 

I tossed and turned that night, restless for a new reason. Joseph was on my mind still, but it was no longer about his illness. I thought about last night, and then about this morning. He'd been testing me, and I'd failed.

Or had I?

Was it a test of temptation? Was he seeing if I was able to resist him? Of course I could! I hadn't done anything but help him. Sure... there were thoughts... but, I hadn't acted on them! I'd only done what any good person would do. Right? 

Well... maybe not. There were probably other ways to help him than what I'd done. But, wait—had he even truly needed help in the first place? The idea that he'd been faking it, deceiving me for his “test”... I massaged my palm against my forehead, attempting to rub away the creases that formed when I scowled.

I hadn't even thought to make any accusations towards Joseph this morning. It hadn't mattered. The only concern I had was that he might not want me. In the end, we'd stopped talking about it when Joseph fell asleep again, his head resting in my lap.

We'd avoided saying anything more about our actions for the rest of the day, keeping our conversations short and restricted to things such as our children, food, and our favorite TV shows. We'd played a few games of chess, and I'd lost repeatedly. Joseph played black every time. 

“Kay?” 

The sound of Joseph's voice calling to me in the dark, his knuckles lightly rapping against the open door, pulled me from my thoughts. I rolled over, fighting with my sheets as I peered at Joseph. My eyes glanced at the clock, noting it was almost midnight. 

“Kay... can I come in?” Joseph asked. 

“Uh... yeah, sure.” Joseph was beside my bed by the time I managed to untangle myself. I was like some sort of champion at getting sheets wrapped around my legs.

“I can't sleep... I need to apologize.”

I could only just make out his pale face in the dark. “For whose sake?” My bitter thoughts had not vanished, influencing my tone as I looked at Joseph.

“I think you know.”

The edge of my mattress compressed beneath Joseph's weight, and I moved over to make room as he crawled into bed beside me. My heart beat a little faster, both with joy and fear. Joy that he would choose me. Fear that he would not choose Mary.

What sort of retribution would we face? 

And then a new thought, painfully piercing, entered my head.

“Will you leave Mary?” I asked just as Joseph's arm brushed against my own.

He paused, and I prayed it was because I'd caught him off guard and not because he had to think about it. 

“Of course. It wouldn't be right for me to stay with her. It's never been right, really,” Joseph answered. 

“Why did you marry her?”

“Because I was confused and mistaken. I thought that my religion meant I had to be a certain way. I misinterpreted the words the Lord gave me. I misconstrued their meaning....” Joseph said.

“Alright. That's... a lot of ways to say you were wrong,” I commented. “But why _her_?” 

“Oh.” I could see Joseph's eyes glittering in the dark as he turned his head to look at me. “Because it was easy. We went to the same church as children, and it was suggested often that we would be an attractive couple.”

“So she was convenient for you? Did you ever really love her?”

“Of course!” Joseph insisted, his voice rising in defense of his sham of a marriage. He grew quiet again shortly after, turning some hidden thought over in his head before speaking. “Probably not the way she deserved, though.”

I nodded, even though I couldn't really understand. I'd always loved Alex, and, as far as I knew, he'd always loved me too. “What made you realize you were wrong?”

Joseph gave a soft but bitter laugh at the question, his body shifting as he rolled towards me and came closer. His hands fumbled beneath the blankets, searching for mine until I entwined my fingers with his. “My unhappiness. Her unhappiness. It wasn't right. I don't think that's what God intended for his children.”

I gave his fingers a light squeeze. I was no man of religion, but I knew that Joseph's faith was important to his entire sense of self. I was afraid of the questions I wanted to ask, the questions I needed to ask. Afraid of how they could hurt Joseph. I didn't want to see his faith destroyed because of me. “What about all those verses and things people say about people like me? Like us? How can you be devout when your religion seems to hate what we are?”

Joseph shrugged. “I don't think God meant for his words to be interpreted that way. I think humans... we are sinful, and we make mistakes and lie for our own benefit.”

“Are you saying you think the Bible has lies in it?” I asked disbelievingly.

“Certainly. Maybe not intentionally, sometimes things just get lost in translation,” Joseph confirmed. “I think, however, there are certain laws in the Bible that are more important than others. And that sometimes you have to break other rules in order to obey the important ones.”  


“Like what?”

“Like... honesty over adultery...” Joseph said as an example. “I honestly... want to be with you, Kay. And being with you means breaking my promise to Mary as her husband... but I think it's more important to be honest.”

His justification was sickening, but still I felt some sort of pleasure from hearing those words. 

“So, be honest with me a little more,” I dared. “How sick are you really?” 

I felt Joseph laugh against me, one of his hands slipping from my grip to run along my jaw and trace its edge from my ear down to my chin.

“Better than before, thanks to you,” he answered, cheekily avoiding a real answer. 

This time, when he kissed me, he didn't taste of vodka and his lips burned against mine in an entirely different way. I couldn't help myself, my hand slipping beneath his torso to pull him closer and closer and closer until he finally swung his leg over mine and rested his full weight atop me. His chest was against mine, pressing into my ribs with each breath. I let my hands wander beneath the hem of his shirt, my fingers tracing over the soft skin of his backside.

He moaned into my mouth, and my possessive desires were rekindled. I nipped at his throat, and he responded with a grunt. I could feel everything when I raised my hips, Joseph bearing down in answer and grinding against me. I writhed beneath him, wanting more and getting it with each kiss that left the both of us panting and winded.

Joseph suddenly pulled away, and I felt him tense above me. What happened? Had I done something to upset him?

“Joseph, what's wr- ”

Joseph held up a hand, pale and barely visible in the dark. Wait.

And then he sneezed.

And then he sneezed again.

He continued to sneeze rapidly in succession, attempting to apologize between each one but having his words cut off every time. He suddenly clutched his nose, and for the first time I heard him swear as he spoke, his voice muffled beneath his hand.

“I think my nose is bleeding.”

It was hard to pick which emotion to express. Disappointment that this had put an end to our actions? Worry for Joseph? What I really wanted to do was laugh, my hands guiding Joseph off the bed as he tried not to drip blood anywhere. I forced myself to remain solemn, clambering out of bed after him and following him down the hall to the bathroom to help.  
In the light of the hallway, we determined that he was correct. His nose was bleeding, upset by the sudden sneezing attack.

“Thanks,” Joseph said as he hovered over the bathroom sink. 

I'd had to turn the faucets for him in order to allow him to wash the blood from his hands. Now there were tissues littering the counter, each one dyed with brilliant red spots that bloomed outward. We would clean up later. Right now it was more important to get it to stop. 

“I'm really sorry about this...” Joseph continued. He'd sounded stuffed up all week from his illness, but this time it was from tissue crammed up his nose.

“Don't worry about it,” I assured him. “Hey, I once read that blowing your nose can help put an end to a bloody nose faster.”

“I don't feel like there is any truth to that,” Joseph replied, straightening up as he spoke. It seemed the worst had passed, and soon Joseph was washing any remaining blood off his skin and we were heading back to my room.

This time only to sleep. There was no point in sending Joseph back to the couch, and I didn't want to. I wanted him beside me. I wanted to feel his warmth and solidness against me. I hadn't felt something like that in years....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See y'all next Monday!


	6. Friday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kingsley takes things past his personal point of no return.
> 
> ~*~ This chapter does include sex and swearing ~*~

I was very aware of everything in the morning. I was aware of Joseph's backside pressed against me. I was aware of Joseph's soft murmurs as he ground back against me, forcing more awareness of how hard my cock was. I was aware of his hands, guiding mine between his legs... and I was aware of just how hard _he_ was as well.

I opened my eyes, freezing momentarily and then trying to quietly trying to pull my hands away. He was asleep! I couldn't fondle someone who was asleep! Even if I... wanted to.... 

Joseph groaned and rolled over beside me, his eyelids fluttering open to reveal the blues beneath. “What's wrong?” 

I blushed. “Nothing... I just... I thought you were still sleeping,” I mumbled, Joseph tugging on my hand and trying to guide it back to where it had been before. 

“I was trying to...” Joseph replied, a soft smile on his lips as he looked at me.

“But you were...?”

“Yeah.” Joseph winked and I couldn't help but chuckle and allow him to position my hands as he pleased.

I pressed my forehead against his as I felt the warmth radiating from him, his hand covering mine. Eventually I moved my hand out from beneath his, but only to trace the skin of his stomach just above his sweatpants. My fingers toyed with his waistband, teasing that they might dare to slip beneath, until Joseph began to grow frustrated.

It was cute. 

He looked so desperate, and I was okay with that. I wanted him to want me as badly as I had grown to want him. I slid my hand beneath the fabric of his pants, trailing my fingers over every area but where he wanted them most until he was involuntarily moving his hips in search of my hand. 

“Stop playing,” Joseph complained, and I jolted as he suddenly gripped me through my shorts.

It was a dirty move, but an efficient one. I allowed my fingers to curl around his shaft, and tried to imagine how it looked based on how it felt. Was he really as big as he felt? I hadn't really looked closely when we showered, but soon I would find out everything I wanted to know.

“K-Kay... Kingsley... the phone,” Joseph said, nodding to the cellphone beside my bed as it vibrated and threatened to fall off the nightstand. I hadn't even noticed it. 

Shit. It was Mary. I hurried to snatch the phone up, answering even with my hand still down the pants of this woman's husband. “Good morning... Mary.”

_“Yeah, morning. Is my dear husband better?”_

I scowled a little at the way she referred to him. “Well he's-”

_“Because I had a really hard time running youth group on Wednesday, and I can't handle it again on Sunday. I'm busy.”_

Joseph could hear everything she was saying, despite the call not being on speakerphone. He let his head fall back against the pillows, his eyes wandering towards the picture of Alex that I kept on my desk and remaining there while I spoke to his wife.

“Yes. I know. I'm sure you are,” I responded. “Look, why haven't you called all week? You could've called. You haven't even dropped by.”

Joseph's eyes snapped back to me as I interrogated Mary. He mouthed something to me, and I ignored him.

_“I already told you. I'm busy. It's not like youth pastors are raking it in. Who do you think pays for shit around here?”_

“You can't possibly be too busy to check on your own husband!” I exclaimed.

“What are you doing!?” Joseph hissed. 

I put a finger to his lips to shush him, Joseph rolling his eyes in return. “Look, I gotta go. Joseph is awake again, and he's been vomiting all night. I'll let you know how he's doing later.” Without another word, I hung up on Mary and tossed my phone across the room where it wouldn't be an interruption any longer.

“Vomiting all night? Really?” Joseph asked. “You couldn't have just kept it to the fever?”

“Fevers don't illicit the same squeamishness vomit does. I didn't really want her to come over to see you,” I explained. “I want more time with you... no more distractions.”

“Well lying isn't really the best wa-”

I kissed him to shut him up, in no mood for a lecture on which of the ten commandments I was breaking. He had no right to give me any such lecture as it were—not with his hands where they were.

Propping myself up, I pushed away the blankets and straddled Joseph, my nails grazing the skin of his abdomen when I grabbed at his shirt with a little too much eagerness. He didn't mind, sitting up just enough to allow me to tug the fabric up and over his head and expose his chest. I planted kisses there, one after the other from his collarbone down to his navel. Joseph's hands clawed at my own clothing in return, insisting they be removed.

“Here's something Mary will never have... all this hair!” Joseph commented as he brushed his lips against my uncovered chest.

I laughed. “Don't talk about her right now,” I said, Joseph nodding and watching me as I slipped lower. I used my teeth to pull at his waistband teasingly, occasionally kissing the along the v-shaped lines that led to where I most wanted to be. 

“H-hey... careful with those teeth down there,” Joseph warned, his hips raising slightly to allow me to remove his sweatpants further. I tugged them down only enough to get at what I wanted, Joseph tensing when my lips pressed gently against the head of his erection then shuddering as my mouth engulfed him. 

I closed my eyes, listening to the sounds Joseph made as I drug my tongue along the length of him and allowed him to press as far into my mouth as he wanted. Occasionally he bumped against the back of my throat, and I would inhale a little harder than normal and feel my eyes water. I pressed a hand between my legs, grabbing at my own length and pumping in pace with my mouth.

Joseph's legs wrapped around me, trapping me and constricting around me like he was a damn python as I worked.

“More,” Joseph muttered after a while, and I glanced up to look at him. His arm was over his face, obscuring his eyes but not hiding the flushed skin of his cheeks or his gasping mouth. I granted him one final swipe of my tongue along his member, grinning in anticipation as I broke out of the grip his legs had on me.

“More?” I asked, crawling upwards to cover his frame with my own. “Are you sure you're in any shape for _more_?” 

What was I even asking? Like I cared anymore. I wanted him, and he wanted me. Besides, we couldn't stop now—right? It was too late. In the eyes of a jilted woman, was there really any difference in _what_ we did when, either way, we had done it together? When it hadn't been her with him, but rather him with me? The thought of Mary dutifully performing these actions for her husband... and jealousy coursed through my veins—not her, anymore. Me. Mine. Joseph was _mine_ now.

I didn't wait for Joseph's answer, instinctively reaching to my left to pull out the drawer of the nightstand. I found what I wanted without even needing to look, my mouth focused on leaving as many dark welts as I could on Joseph's neck and torso as possible in the time we would have together. How much longer could I keep him? A day? Two? Maybe even three... just long enough to let the marks fade. Then, when Mary was out of the picture, I'd plant every single one again. Over and over.

Joseph squirmed beneath me, wriggling his sweatpants off eagerly and grabbing at my hands. He knew one of them had what he wanted, and he tried to steal the small bottle of lube the moment he found it in my left hand. I let him, halting my kisses to watch him closely. 

“Shorts...” he pointed out, and I laughed a little.

“What, are they in your way?” 

“I warned you before to stop teasing me,” Joseph said, a sly smile painting his lips before he pushed me off of him. I had no time to even react, falling backwards and finding myself trapped beneath Joseph now and staring up at his looming figure.

Shit. I'd forgotten how strong he really was, even while ill.

He dropped the bottle of lube by my head, his thumbs hooking into my shorts and yanking them down roughly. The fabric drug over my already all-too-sensitive groin, and I jolted in response. I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt so wanted... it had been far too many years.

“You've been in control all week,” Joseph murmured in my ear as he leaned close, “it's my turn.”

I heard the click of the lube cap, and closed my eyes. _Yes, yes, yes!_ I'd been fearing I was going to use the entire thing by myself at this rate....

It wasn't cold. It never was. Still, there was always the anticipation and the shock that came with it, and I tried to relax but found it impossible until I felt Joseph's hand running over my entire length. I opened my eyes again, watching how he tended to me and giving an appreciative moan. He squeezed a fresh dollop of lube onto his fingers before applying it to himself, ensuring he was slick with the stuff before he continued.

It was like a show and I was the lone audience member, Joseph toying with himself while atop me until I couldn't stand to just be a viewer any longer—I wanted to be a participant! I grabbed his shoulders, pulling him down so I could feel him against me. Wiggling a hand between us, I wrapped my fingers around our shared erections and reveled in the feeling of us _together_.

Joseph groaned and let me do as I pleased while he prepared himself, his hips naturally following the rhythm I set until it was almost reflexive. I hoped the sheen to his skin was the sweat of our actions, and not his illness—he certainly had more color today than he'd had all week...

I continued to pump my hand between us, shuddering when the friction was _just right_. Apparently Joseph could feel it too, his hands suddenly landing heavily on my chest in an attempt to stabilize himself as he cussed. God did he cuss. He sounded like a bloody sailor, rattling off words I'd never heard used quite that way before while his nails threatened to break skin as he dug them into my chest.

“Kay... Kay, Kay, Kay, Kay,” he exhaled. The way he said my name sounded more like someone admitting defeat and giving in. I didn't mind—that was what I wanted. I was ready to give in too, and I moved my hands and felt the muscles of his ass as I pulled him further up my torso—I was pleased to discover they were just as firm as they'd looked.

Joseph pressed his knees down into the mattress, rising just enough before reclining back again. He made the most wonderful sound as I pushed into him, something guttural and full of longing—it was almost animal, and it took a considerable amount of willpower to not fully give myself up right then and there.

At my hesitation, Joseph was the one who continued to move. He was beautiful to watch, one hand reaching behind him to around my shin while the other ran down his entire exposed length. The rise and fall of his chest grew deeper as he moved against me, soft moans encouraging me to do more than just stare. He steadily picked up the speed until I was forced to grab his hips, fingers pressing hard enough to leave bruises as I took control of the pace. 

“Stop... stop slowing me down,” Joseph complained, struggling to speak between his desperate gasps for breath. 

“Can't help it... don't want it to end too soon,” I replied, panting myself now. It was true. My body might have been ready, but I wasn't yet. Deep down, there was a fear. A fear that, once this was over, that would be the end. That it wouldn't be Mary who was left, but me.

If that was the case, I wanted as much as I could possibly have right now. 

Joseph flicked my nose suddenly, demanding I give him my full attention. Evidently, he knew my mind had been wandering. He didn't ask to where, his hands cupping my face to keep my focus on him. 

Staring into his blue eyes, I smirked and bucked up into him, Joseph crying out in surprise from the movement.

“Fuck, do it again!” he begged, and I brushed some of the hair from his forehead before obliging. It was the surprise that made it so good, Joseph never knowing when to expect the next one. He demanded it again, and I would meet his need, but I refused to give him any sort of predictability. I yanked him down for kisses, biting his lower lip and letting my hand slide along his cock.

His arms wrapped around my neck, thoughts slipping away from the demand as I felt his tongue push back against mine.

As soon as he was distracted, my hips snapped upward and he emitted a strangled noise into my mouth. Slipping away, Joseph pulled himself upright and put his hand on top of mine where I had a grip on him.

“Kingsley... I'm so close,” he warned. I stopped stroking him, my thumb running along the sensitive underside of his cock head to tease him further. “You're so cruel...” he complained, grinding down against me as he spoke.

I couldn't find any words to say, since I was barely holding it together myself. It was all I could do to even find the strength to begin moving at a steady rhythm again, this time not stopping Joseph when he decided it wasn't _fast_ enough. 

Even hearing Joseph curse so much, I still couldn't bring myself to swear in front of him—it felt weird after trying not to for so long. I settled for saying his name over and over, memorizing the way my lips moved and how the air passed over my teeth every time I said it. 

I managed to control myself for only a fraction of a second longer than Joseph could, the man grunting and gasping as he spilled over my hand. Then Joseph's cheek was against my shoulder while he thanked God and I held him. I didn't want him to move—I didn't want to let go. I silently thanked Joseph's God too.

 

~*~

 

I woke up with my hand still cupping the underside of Joseph's ass, Joseph snoozing beside me. He was drooling. I smiled, moving my hand so that I might run it through his hair. He stirred in response, snuggling closer as though he hoped I might absorb him into me.

“Joseph,” I whispered, trying to wake him as gently as possible. It was almost noon. We'd been in bed way too long, and the room clearly needed a window open. It smelled musty and like sweaty men who were overdue for a shower. Kind of like being back in college with Craig. 

Joseph grumbled something and pushed his face into my shoulder, reluctant to be called to consciousness just yet.

“Joseph, c'mon...” I insisted, giving him a little shake. 

His stomach was obviously on my side, as it gave a loud rumble and Joseph made a noise of complaint before forcing himself up. He blinked groggily as he looked around my room, struggling to really wake up as he squinted at the clock. “S'it still Friday?” he mumbled, rubbing his face and yawning.

I laughed. “Yeah man, it's still only Friday,” I assured him.

“Wow... I could've slept all day after what you did to me,” he replied, his tone impish as he gave me a suggestive smirk.

“I can make sure you sleep just as good tonight,” I offered, Joseph laughing loudly in response and crawling over me to get off the bed. We'd fallen asleep backwards, our heads at the foot of the bed and our feet on the pillows. I hadn't even noticed, I was so tired and Joseph was so warm.

“So, just how long are you going to keep me anyways? Since Mary thinks I'm vomiting, I'm assuming I'm not leaving just yet.”

“Oh... Sunday, probably. I think you'll be fit as a fiddle by Sunday,” I said, when I really wanted to say _forever_. 

Joseph gave a nod and extended a hand to pull me up after him. “I guess we better make the most of our time until then,” he suggested, his lips grazing over mine lightly. The kiss was almost an insult after this morning, and I pulled him right back in demand of a better one. I was not going to take anything less.

 

~*~

 

“So, Amanda's leaving pretty soon for college, huh?” Joseph asked over dinner. We played chess as we ate, Joseph winning in only eight moves at one point. Our games were absent-minded, a distraction to fill the space whenever there was silence.

“Yeah...” I kept sliding my king around, trying to defend it from Joseph. How did he always trap me so easily!? I sighed when he took my king again. That was probably the sixth game in a row I'd lost during dinner alone. “Another couple months, and it'll just be me...” I stopped, thinking about Joseph's promise to leave Mary. I almost didn't dare to include Joseph in my empty-nest daydreams. 

“Yeah. It's kind of hard... being alone,” Joseph commented, his fork scraping against the bottom of his plate as he pushed peas into the center of his pasta. As he ate, he'd been creating a hole in the center of his food and sending all the peas there. I wasn't sure if he was trying to isolate them for later, or if he just disliked peas.

“Well, I'm kind of okay with it. But, Amanda's not. She'll feel better knowing I'm here, with you... and everyone else.” I didn't want it to be everyone else. I wanted it to be just Joseph and I. I didn't need anyone else. Still, I was sure to vaguely mention the neighbors just in case....

Joseph's foot rubbed against my shin beneath the table, and I was somewhat reassured. This wasn't how I'd pictured this week going, but I was glad. I had never really had any plans when moving to Maple Bay—it was all about making school easier for Amanda, and not staying in a house with too many memories of Alex. I could handle the memories when Amanda was there, but without her it would've been impossible.

Now I was here, making new memories. With Joseph around, it would be easier to bear Amanda's absence while she attended college. I hoped this house wouldn't come to fill me with sadness too—I didn't want to live in a place that reminded me of people who had left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See y'all Friday for the update!
> 
> Update: I have decided to let the readers say how this should end! Please let me know where your heart lies--in suffering and pining, or a successful romance!


	7. Saturday: Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kingsley opens up to Joseph further, and discovers he's not the only one willing to share the more emotional side of himself.

I woke with a jolt around three in the morning, my fingers curling around empty sheets beside me and my throat tightening. I was alone. Where was he? Where was Joseph?

We'd spent so much of yesterday in each other's arms, talking and dusting off old once-told but now forgotten secrets. How long had it been since I'd opened up to another person like this? Joseph continued to steadily break my records of loneliness. 

And now he was missing, vanished from my side.

I rolled over, grabbing the pillow his head had been resting on and burying my face in it. It smelled like him. Why had he left?

“I'm going to need that back, you know....”

I looked over my shoulder, Joseph peering at me in the dark. “You're... here,” I said stupidly. 

“Of course? I just needed to use the bathroom... _someone_ has been making me drink a lot of fluids.” His accusation was true. I had been a bit ridiculous about the fluids the entire time he'd been here. 

“Ugh...” I released his pillow and waited for him to crawl back into bed, going over in my mind how ridiculous I was behaving. There were so many obvious reasons for him to get up at night, and my mind had jumped to the idea that he'd run away. I'd felt so certain he'd left me. Why was I so pathetic?

Joseph settled in beside me, tossing an arm and a leg over me and trapping me as he pulled me close and kissed my hair. “What's wrong?” he asked. “You seem upset.”

I sighed. Was I really so easy to read? “Just coming to terms with who I am as a person,” I replied. “Joseph, do you like yourself? Cuz sometimes I think... I hate myself.”

Joseph's lips tickled the back of my neck, his hand moving lower before he lifted my shirt. There were a lot of things I expected. I did _not_ , however, expect him to stick a finger in my bellybutton. I wound up laughing and pushing his hand away, Joseph chuckling too.

“In all seriousness,” Joseph said, reaching around me to grab my hand and hold it tightly. “I do like myself. There are things I do that I dislike, but... I can change those things. And I hope to.” He gave my hand a comforting squeeze as he spoke, and I nodded. “Who we are is made of actions. As long as you make the right decisions for _you_ , you can't hate yourself too much—right?” 

I gave a shrug. “What if you only _think_ you're making the right decisions? And they're all wrong and hurt more than just you? What if they hurt other people?” 

“I'd say you just need to be certain of yourself beforehand, then,” Joseph answered. 

I knew my actions with Joseph would hurt others. Mary especially. What if Amanda ever found out? Her father, a homewrecker.... Still, these weren't the thoughts that made me hate myself. It was the thought that I was okay with all of these outcomes, so long as I had Joseph. It was the idea of losing Joseph that made me hate myself.

“... how can I be certain of you?” I asked, Joseph going still behind me as I spoke. “I don't want this to be... I don't... please don't let this be a bad decision. Don't let us be a mistake.”

“Kay... Kingsley,” Joseph whispered, hugging me closer and talking softly into my ear. “I _love_ you. I would _hate_ myself if I didn't choose you, and I am _certain_ that you are the right one for me. I need you....”

Pressed so close against me, I could feel that Joseph needed me in more than one way. Consoled by his words, I knew what sort of actions I wanted to take with him. I shifted, rubbing my ass against him and ensuring he knew that I _knew_ , and that I needed him in the same way.

 

~*~

 

“At last! A normal breakfast!” Joseph exclaimed, setting two plates loaded with eggs, toast, bacon, and even hash browns on the table. He'd been cooking for what felt like hours, my stomach growling longingly for the scents coming from my kitchen. My house never smelled this good when I cooked.

“What are you saying, that you're tired of toast and poptarts?” I asked. Guh... my mouth was watering so much. When would he sit down already so we could eat!?

Joseph laughed softly and brought me a fork—yeah, okay, perhaps I did need to wait for one of those—before sitting across from me. I liked this, sitting across from him with great smelling food before us and the house quiet and cozy feeling. I found his leg under the table with my foot, rubbing it up and down his shin a few times while looking at him. Wasn't this how teens felt, not adults?

“You're going to starve if you just keep staring,” Joseph said, pointing his fork at my plate and gesturing for me to eat already. “Besides... if you don't eat, you won't have energy for me later!”

I snorted. When we'd finally gone back to sleep this morning, I had been dead tired. There was nothing better than waking up beside Joseph, though. His hair all mussed, the covers half on the floor, clothing absent... he was right, I needed the energy.

Tomorrow... tomorrow he had to go home. He was better now, and I couldn't keep him any longer. But, I still had him today... and tonight. I couldn't waste that time. I didn't know when I would get him back, either.

“Joseph...” I said deliberately. “When will you tell Mary?”

He stopped eating, his eyes locking with mine briefly before dropping to the floor. “I don't know... I need to think about it. I don't want to hurt her more than I have to.”

I had to tell myself repeatedly not to panic. Joseph wasn't saying anything irrational. He was right. He needed to put thought into this. But... for how long? I didn't want to wait on the sidelines forever.... “I understand,” I finally said. “Will you still see me, during that time?”

Joseph shrugged. “I don't know yet, Kay. I know that I'll want you around. I'll need your support... but, I also don't want Mary to know about... us. I don't want her to blame you. It has nothing to do with you—it is entirely between Mary and I, and I don't want you to get hurt either. I couldn't... I don't think I could handle it if people thought differently of you because of me.”

My fears were somewhat alleviated, but just barely. “That's... nice of you,” I forced myself to say. “You're very considerate.”

Joseph must've picked up on the slight bitterness that clung to my voice, because his foot suddenly found its way up my leg to press into my groin. “Hey. I'm serious. I just want this to be over, as quick and smooth as possible.”

I nodded, turning my focus to my food. The eggs were over-easy, and I might have stabbed them a little too aggressively while Joseph was talking. The yolks were bleeding into my hashbrowns. I needed ketchup. Maybe tabasco too.

I excused myself from the table to go and dig through the fridge, Joseph watching me closely. I thought about his foot touching me, and thought about the things I wanted to do before he left as well.

This was so hard. I'd never imagined any of this happening, and now I was stuck in it. I felt like one of those dinosaurs trapped in a tar-pit. The goal had been so clear: nurse Joseph to health. Now I was drowning in the messiness of his failed marriage. And, it wasn't as though I hadn't known. There had been signs; “Danger: Tar Pit!”. I'd walked right past them.

So... why was I so happy to be drowning?

 

~*~

 

I hadn't expected Amanda home today, but I should've. Of course Mary would have her weekends free, considering her and Joseph's positions in the community. It made sense that she wouldn't need Amanda anymore.

Still, I'd been unprepared. Joseph and I had been sitting awfully close when she'd walked in. I'd be singing praises to my reflexes later, as I'd instantly snatched the thermometer off the coffee table and held it up, pretending to ascertain that Joseph was, indeed, almost recovered. I hoped we didn't look too guilty, since Amanda had always been able to read right through me.

If she did notice, she didn't say anything. Instead, she flew past us and went straight to her room. Even the lingering smell of the bacon from breakfast didn't slow her down, and my brow furrowed as I heard her door slam behind her.

“That... seemed different then her usual disappearing?”

I was surprised. Most people wouldn't catch something like that, but Joseph was right. Something was definitely wrong, and my thoughts went immediately to the texts I'd received from Hugo.

“Yeah... hang on, I'll be right back,” I said, patting his hand before moving to go check on my clearly upset daughter.

I paused outside of her door, preparing to knock but lowering my hand instead and sighing. Her door was closed so often these days. So was she. Why? I missed having her come to me for help... it was like pulling teeth to get her to even admit when something was wrong these days. Of course I didn't want her to feel bad about admitting something might be wrong, I just wanted to help.

I knew she wanted to be big... independent... maybe she felt bad for asking for my help, when she wanted to be mature. Still, I needed her to need me. 

“Amanda?” I called through the door. I knew she could hear me, knock or no knock, but she didn't respond. “Amanda... Joseph really misses his kids, can you please, uh, tell him how they were this week?” It was a long-shot, but maybe Amanda would feel better talking about someone else. Then at least I could see her. Maybe she'd tell me about her week too, in the process.

The door opened slowly, and I could tell that Amanda had been crying. No wonder she'd run by us so fast.... I kept my mouth shut and kept reminding myself not to pressure her.

“Yeah, okay,” Amanda agreed, shuffling past me and leading the way back to the living room.

Joseph started to say hi as Amanda came into view, but stopped. His expression softened, eyebrows upturning in concern as he began to ask what was wrong. I hurriedly put an end to that, waving at him to zip it from behind Amanda.

“Whaaa-hiiii-hooowww are you? Were my children good for you?” Joseph corrected himself. It was awkward. God, was this awkward. But, there was success, Amanda flopping into the armchair and forcing a smile at Joseph.

“Good, so long as they're kept busy,” she replied. “The twins are pretty good at keeping themselves occupied, but that ca-”

“Can come with some disastrous results,” Joseph finished for her, chuckling a little and nodding. He knew. He knew his twins were a dangerous combo. Together, they terrified me....

“Yeah,” Amanda agreed with a laugh. “Chrish is what you'd expect of a baby. Small. Cute. Kinda gross. The usual, as far as I, an oh so worldly and knowledgeable teenager, can say.”

Joseph hummed in response and played with his hands. “Very wise,” he said, agreeing again.

I hoped she wouldn't say anything rude. I knew I probably would, albeit unintentionally, but some part of me prayed she had her father's grace when it came to discussing other people's children. Other people always had weird children... like Brian's daughter. _Weird_. 

“You know, Chris is a pretty good artist,” Amanda mentioned as the conversation continued. “I saw some art of his. A little morbid, but he's got a solid grasp on some things I feel like I only learned a year ago.”

“What? Really!?” Joseph asked. I'd met Chris. Sort of. All I really knew of the kid was that he was quiet, solitary, and didn't really want to ever talk to anyone. I especially seemed unwelcome in his eyes. “He... showed you his art?” Joseph pressed, and I picked up on a hint of envy and sadness. Apparently this was something Chris did not share with him....

“Well, not really. It was more of... well... I had homework, some projects you know, trying to get my portfolio together for Horne Institute for the Arts and stuff, and he came over and pointed out something I'd done and said it looked bad. I was prepared to be offended, until he suggested something else that was _waaaaay_ better. It really threw me off guard—I didn't expect it one bit!” 

After not hearing Amanda all week, it was nice to hear her chatting it up so much with Joseph.

“Oh, wow! What did he say? He never really talks to me... I worry. It's a father thing, I'm sure you know. I bet your dad does it too,” Joseph laughed, and Amanda gave me the side-eye. Ohhhh boy I sure did, and there was no denying it.

“He just said that I was trying to be “too original” and that my art didn't “feel”,” Amanda answered.

“Didn't feel like what?” I asked. Oops. I hadn't meant to jump in. I was trying to hold back and just listen, since Amanda seemed so comfortable talking to Joseph... that sort of smarted, now that I thought about it.

“No, it just didn't “feel”. Like... there was no emotion to it. It was too forced. I dunno how to say it, really, but Chris said it was like I was trying to set out food for people, but it was all made of wax. No one wants to eat it. It looks nice, but it's fake,” Amanda explained. I had to nod like I understood, and like I wasn't insulted on behalf of Amanda. What a rude thing to say, saying her art looked fake and forced! But... she seemed to agree....

“Wow... I wish I'd known about this side of Chris. He's so quiet always,” Joseph murmured. “I'm really proud of him... and I'm glad he was able to help you. He's a bit abrasive, I understand....”

“Yeah, I think he gets that from Mary,” Amanda laughed. Joseph winced, but only I saw it. “But, he has good intentions. Like you,” Amanda concluded. 

The words were almost damning. Joseph and I both ducked our heads, somewhat ashamed of our unknown actions but both of us knowing we wouldn't stop. My thoughts went through all the usual justifications for my actions; they were unhappy, the kids shouldn't be subjected to an unhappy marriage, blah blah blah it was the best for everyone blah blah blah I deserved happiness and so did Joseph blaaaahhhh. 

“Anyways... yeah, Chris really helped me out,” Amanda repeated, and then she sniffed a little. “Too bad it was ruined....”

Crap. Fresh tears. They were coming.

Joseph grabbed the box of tissues (the oh so special lotion-infused tissues, thank you, Brian) and quickly handed some to Amanda. She clutched them in her fists, turning them into pretty much useless wads over actually using them.

“I just... some people are such jerks, you know? They just hate to see other people be happy.” Was she... was she going to tell us what happened? Joseph didn't even know what little I knew. 

“What's wrong? Did something happen?” Joseph asked, and I inhaled sharply. _No, no, no!_ She was going to clam up again! Direct questioning never worked!

“Yeah,” Amanda admitted. What? She was going to talk to him, but not me? Ouch.... “Those brats Ernest hangs out with... they destroyed what I was making. It was... it was something very special. I just... ever since moving, I feel like I left a part of myself behind. I know I'm not alone, but I can't feel my dad in this place and I just... I feel sort of hollow.”

I knew she meant Alex. How could I have let this happen? I knew she was going through a rough patch with her friend... friends... Emma P.? Emma R.? Emma...sss...? Whatever. I knew she was struggling. And still, I'd completely missed that she was lonely. She missed Alex. She missed her friends. She missed our old house... and I couldn't change any of that. 

“Can it be remade?” Joseph asked. His voice was so caring, and Amanda seemed really comfortable opening up to him. Was this what Youth Pastors did outside of organizing awkward dances and bake sales?

“No... it won't feel genuine anymore. It'll feel like... a bad copy,” Amanda sighed.

“Well... do you think you can make something even better?” Joseph continued. He patted her hand as he spoke, his eyes locking with hers. It felt weird to observe this conversation... I felt like I should've been in the kitchen or somewhere else, even though it was my child and my... whatever Joseph was. “Because, Amanda, I've seen your art... and I think you have the ability to surprise yourself and everyone. I think you'll bounce back and make something with even more feeling than you anticipated, and that this setback is just a proving moment for yourself.”

Joseph was inspiring. My chest felt funny listening to him—like I was going to burst with emotion. That same feeling when someone made an impossible shot and won the game, or when lovers seemingly kept apart from fate finally found each other... like in the rom-coms I secretly loved so much. 

“You really think so?” Amanda asked, rubbing away the tears that formed in her eyes as she talked.

“Yep. And don't you worry about proving anything to anybody else. This is a moment of growth for you—it's not about getting back at anyone, okay? It's about standing your ground, and turning this into something positive. You're going to face a lot of ugly setbacks in your life... do you think you're up for this one?” 

God... he was such a good man... I was falling in love even more every time he opened his mouth. Who wouldn't want someone this great with their kid?

Amanda slowly nodded. “I'm no quitter, and I'm not afraid of a challenge,” Amanda decided, her voice firm. “Thanks... Mr. Christiansen, this really helped... and, thanks Pops for... not pushing,” Amanda said, her eyes meeting mine briefly. “Anyways, I'm going to let you two do whatever it is old men do for fun—I have work to do!”

I felt relieved having heard Amanda open up, and knowing she was feeling better. She jumped up from her seat, giving both Joseph and I a hug before she bounded off toward her bedroom, freshly inspired and unwilling to waste another minute talking to us “old men”.

I sat back down beside Joseph, having hovered awkwardly the entire conversation. I exhaled loudly, my hand instinctively moving to rest on Joseph's thigh while I thought about things. “I... you are such a godsend, you know that?” I asked him, Joseph giving me a questioning look. “I'm just saying, I might have to start believing in your God if you keep performing these miracles,” I teased before sneaking a quick kiss.

Joseph laughed and elbowed me in the ribs. “Trust me, I'm not that good at this... like I said, my own kids hardly talk to me,” he pointed out.

“Oh, right... maybe kids just don't wanna talk to their own parents?” I suggested. “I dunno. I can't remember if I was like that as a teen... it feels like a long time ago.”

“Longer for you than for others,” Joseph said, playfully ruffling my hair. Greeeaat now it wasn't just Amanda teasing me about my hair color....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See y'all Monday for the update!


	8. Saturday: Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The week is drawing to a close, the sun dropping further in the sky even as Kingsley protests how short his time with Joseph has been.

Amanda had only come out of her room three times ever since Joseph's peptalk. First it was to make a sandwich, and then it was to use the restroom, and the third time I still didn't know what she was doing or why, but I had my suspicions...she'd marched right past Joseph and I, head down as she furiously texted and went out the front door. She'd come back within minutes, her arms laden with flowers that looked suspiciously similar to the ones from Damien's garden....

“Hey, Kay, didn't those kinda look like...?” Joseph whispered, even after Amanda had already locked herself away again.

“Yes. Yes they did,” I agreed, twisting around on the couch to peek through the blinds. I thought I saw Lucien just before the door shut to Damien's very... unique house. “But, they'd better not be....”

“They might be,” Joseph suggested. Was he implying what I thought he was implying!?

“No! My daughter wouldn't... she'd never... I don't like it!” I sputtered. “What do I do!?”

Joseph bit back a laugh and shrugged. “They're teens, it's not like they won't change.”

“Are you saying _he's_ going to change, or that _she_ is!?” I absolutely could not picture my daughter with that rebellious pale child of Damien's. Once again I was reminded that other people's children were _weird_ and I really didn't want her dating them! Sure, I hadn't really ever objected to that Noah guy when she'd liked him... but I'd never _met_ Noah! I could at least pretend Noah was a normal kid. With Lucien, I knew better!

“I... don't know what I'm saying, honestly,” Joseph admitted. “My kids are too young to date, ha!”

I elbowed him. How dare he brag about such things?! “Just you wait. One day your kids will be slamming their doors in your face and telling you to go away and hiding secrets from you, and I'm just going to laugh at you in return because you're a butthead.”

“A butthead!?” Joseph asked incredulously. I gave a firm nod, and he rolled his eyes. “Well... you're just a butt,” he retorted.

I grinned. “Wanna touch this butt?” 

Joseph smacked me and we both broke down laughing. I felt a little better, even though there was really nothing to be done. At least Lucien was being a gentleman and bringing my daughter flowers....

 

~*~

 

I kept stepping on Joseph's foot over dinner, trying to prompt him to do what I could not. I wanted to know more about what was going on with Lucien and Amanda, but I knew Amanda was never going to tell me if I asked. But, Joseph however... she seemed a little more inclined to talk to him, and, even though that was a little painful, I was desperate for answers.

How long? Who started it—her or him? Was it serious??

Joseph made a face at me as I stepped on his foot for the fifth time. 

“This is really good, Mr. Christiansen,” Amanda said politely. Joseph had made us dinner, and I was glad I was able to experience his cooking again. “I think Christie must get her cooking skills from you—she was a huge help all week!”

“Thanks, Amanda, I'm glad to hear Christie was well behaved,” Joseph replied.

“Welllllll... mostly,” Amanda corrected him. This time I stepped on _her_ foot, and she frowned at me. 

“So... uh... you got flowers today,” I mentioned, Amanda giving a nod and shoving food in her mouth. Did she think that was going to get her out of this? Joseph obviously wasn't going to help me by starting this conversation for me, so I decided to put on my dad face and get it over with. “Lucien brought them by?”

“Yep,” Amanda answered, taking another bite of her food.

“So... you like him?”

Amanda choked on her food, her fork falling to the floor and clattering noisily while Joseph whacked her on the back. “ _DAD!!_ ” Whoa. She'd never said my name that way before. She sounded absolutely offended that I would even imply such a thing.

“Well... do you?” I pressed.

“ _Ew_!! Of course not!” she objected. “Why would you even!? What!? _Dad!_ ”

“He brought you flowers!” I reiterated, trying to make my case with that one fact alone. “Why else do people bring people flowers!?”

“Well, when someone dies they usually...” Joseph trailed off when I glared at him. That was not helping!

“They were for art, sheesh! For _my project?_ ” Amanda answered. Oh. Ohhh right. Art. Of course.

“Oh... uh... well... does Damien know you're using his flowers?” Maybe if I was reeeeeally crafty, I could pretend I'd never asked such a stupid question to begin with. Just... sweep it under the rug....

“Yes, and I've had enough of this parental interrogation. This “in-parent-gation”, if you would, and I am taking this delicious meal and going to my room to enjoy it by myself,” Amanda announced, excusing herself from the table and taking her plate with her. She didn't even remember her fork, which was still lying sadly on the floor.

“Amanda! Sweetie!?” Nope. Too late. She was gone, the door of her room slamming shut. I hated that I was getting used to that sound.

Joseph whistled lowly and dropped his eyes to the floor. “And now I know what _not_ to do when my children are teens,” he commented.

“... if my daughter comes to you to complain about this, you'll tell me, right?” 

“I dunno... we Youth Pastors try to keep things pretty confidential...” Joseph said slowly. He laughed a little. “Don't worry. She had pure intentions and probably didn't realize they could be misinterpreted that way. She'll figure it out later. Probably feel a little bit of shame and embarrassment over it too.”

“God, I hope so since I sure as hell am feeling it myself,” I groaned, burying my face in my hands as I spoke. 

“Hey. Wanna wrap this dinner up? I think you bought us a solid amount of time alone... and I know some things we can do... alone,” Joseph hinted.

 

~*~

 

My head banged against the headboard, and I let out a grunt that was muffled by Joseph's mouth over mine. I hardly noticed any pain, more focused on his hands running over my skin and their grabbing and gripping and drowning out of all other senses. I ran my hands through his hair, keeping him close as I bit at his lower lip and he responded by kissing me harder.

His tongue pushed past my teeth, and I teasingly pushed back with my own tongue and asked for more of him. We had such limited time... I wanted more. More time, more fucking, more memories, more _Joseph_. With him on top of me, it was all too easy to raise my knee so that my thigh pressed into his groin. He moaned into my mouth, rolling his hips slowly over my thigh to further stimulate himself. 

“Kingsley...” Joseph breathed as he drug his lips over my chin and down my throat, creeping ever lower as he rubbed himself against my thigh. I felt his fingers curl around my sack, holding my balls gently in his hand before giving them a light squeeze. I tensed, relaxing only when his fingers did as well. It felt good, like whenever his teeth scraped over my nipples and drove them to excitement.

“Kingsley, tell me what you want,” Joseph commanded, his tone steady as he tightened his grip again. 

“Ungh!! J-Joseph!” I exclaimed before his hold on my balls relented, Joseph waiting for the next opportunity to do it again. “You already know...” I told him, lifting my head to get a better look at him. He had shifted himself all the way down to my crotch, excusing himself from riding my thigh in order to place himself directly between the two. 

He gave a soft and derisive laugh, tilting his head and resting his cheek against my pelvis. His lips were so close... so close to where I wanted them to be.... “Say it,” he insisted. “Say what you want me to do.”

I could feel his breath on my cock every time he spoke, hot and teasing as it moved across my flesh. Damn this perverted pastor.... “Suck me off,” I ordered, burying my fingers in his hair as I pushed his head closer towards my dick. I was so hard, and all I wanted was his lips, soft and warm, to take me in full; to busy themselves with my cock until I could barely keep it together any longer.

Joseph refused to grant my request so simply, instead pressing the tip of his tongue to the slit of my cockhead and licking away the precum that beaded there. His eyes were trained on me, and he ensured he saw every reaction I had to give as his tongue passed over his lips seductively. Why did he taunt me like this!? 

I was relieved when, at last, he allowed his mouth to slip around my cockhead. It was so warm... my hips moved of their own accord, Joseph's tongue pressing hard and flat against the underside of my cock as he allowed me to slide further into his mouth. How far would he let me go? He made no complaints, only quiet moans as he worked. 

I let him go, reveling in the feeling of his mouth around my dick while he continued to follow my commands. He kept it up, his eyes meeting mine on occasion and watching me until I had to look away. He was so damn good at this... part of me wanted this and only this, but I couldn't waste our time that way. I needed more, and eventually I insisted he stop because my thighs were beginning to cramp—or, at least that's what I told him. Really, it was getting way too hard to stop myself from coming, and I wasn't ready to give in yet. I wasn't ready to be done with Joseph. Not tonight, not ever.

Pushing myself up and off the pillows, I grabbed Joseph's face to give him a hard kiss. “Turn around... on your hands and knees,” I told him, keeping his face mere centimeters from mine until I was sure he had listened and would do as I instructed. I sat back as Joseph positioned himself away from me, his ass perfectly on display for me. Unable to resist, I leaned towards him and gave him a love-bite on one of his wondrously toned cheeks. 

His muscles constricted in reply, and I made a pleased noise at how much finer his rear looked now with him all tense. I knew he wouldn't stay that way forever; that he'd eventually relax again. But, while I could, I made sure to give his tight ass a good pinch before reaching back to retrieve the lube from the nightstand. 

I squeezed a generous amount onto my fingers, sliding them between his cheeks and hunching over him so that my chest touched his backside. Joseph was quiet, and I could only wonder where his thoughts were as I applied another dollop of lube to him. He groaned softly when I pressed my middle finger against him, opening him slowly and carefully. I kissed his backside, tracing his shoulder blades with my lips while using my free hand to stroke his cock.

He'd gone a little soft while he'd been focusing on me, and I couldn't even think to leave him like that. Inserting a second finger into him, Joseph's cock swelled in my hand as I pumped him slowly and deliberately. Satisfied, I pulled my fingers from him and moved lower, my hands pushing against the meaty flesh of his ass to fully expose him.

Joseph dropped from his hands to his elbows as my tongue circled his sensitive asshole before sliding into him. It was good, but it was never enough. I knew from experience. That's what made it drive you crazy—because it was _so_ close yet so far, and you could be trapped on the edge forever without any form of release or relent.

“Fuck... fuck!” Joseph gasped, damn near convulsing every time my tongue made false-promises to go deeper. 

It was hard to keep this up when my lips kept threatening to break out in a grin at Joseph's profanities. Was it bad that I felt so good whenever I made him talk that way? I gave him another love-bite, this time on the other cheek, before straightening up and aligning myself behind him. “Ready?” I asked, barely able to wait for Joseph's nod before pressing my cock into his waiting asshole.

I slid in with ease, Joseph trying to cover up a particularly loud moan by burying his face in the blankets at the foot of the bed. God... this felt even better than the first time.... Joseph's ass was so receptive of my dick, taking it all in without any trouble. I exhaled happily, grinding myself into him before pulling back slowly and then entering him fully again.

I watched my own dick slide in and out of Joseph, only growing further aroused by the sight of my cock vanishing within him. I knew Joseph liked to move fast, but, beneath me like this, he could only groan every time I moved against him and let him feel my full length. He rocked back against me, insisting more until I rewarded him by snapping my hips harshly against him.

“God! Fuck!!” Joseph cried, his hand reaching back to grab my wrist and hang on. I released my hold on one of his ass cheeks, wrapping my arm around his torso and pulling him upright against my chest. Like this, we couldn't move very much, but there was a certain sensitivity to me being fully within him and making every minimal movement I could.

Joseph's head lolled to the side, exposing his throat so that I could place as many kisses there as I desired while we moved against each other. My hand drifted lower, fingers curling around his erect member and working him until he came and my hand was left wet and sticky with his semen. He couldn't even speak when I did it, his chest rising and falling heavily and his eyes squeezing shut to close out the world as he was overcome. 

God, I wished I had the energy to do it to him again right then and there....

I clung to him as I spent myself within him, hugging him close and feeling his warmth against me. I didn't want to ever let go, and I knew I wouldn't just yet. Not tonight.

Pulling out of Joseph, I watched my own cum drip from his ass onto the bedding. I didn't care. I found myself thinking thoughts of a perverse nature I wasn't even aware I had—the idea of keeping the sheets dirty to remember him by. Still, I knew I'd wash them later today, and leave only the memories of our actions behind.

I coaxed Joseph back towards me, and we collapsed upon the mattress, Joseph's head resting on my chest in a place where I could easily kiss his hair while running my hand up and down his sweat dampened skin. He was steadily regaining his ability to breathe normally—we both were—and he eventually tilted his head up to look at me.

“Kay... I love you,” he said, his beautiful blue eyes never once looking away from me as he spoke. If I hadn't been so tired already, I knew I would've initiated another make-out session at his confession. It felt so good to hear those words spoken by the tongue of a lover once more. I'd missed hearing them in that context.

 

~*~

 

Joseph couldn't stay in my room that night. Not without alerting Amanda. I didn't want her to know. I stayed on the couch with Joseph, only the light of the TV illuminating the living room as he dozed against me. This way if we both fell asleep, it was possible to play off as unintentional... just two friends unable to stay awake any longer.

But, I couldn't sleep. The time was ticking away, marching on towards Sunday regardless of how much longer I wanted today to last. The week had been so short, but so much had happened. I couldn't recall having ever felt anything for Joseph prior to him staying with me... but, it had been such a long time since I'd pursued anyone or been pursued. Had I missed the signs?

Or, had I avoided them...? 

I was always tense around the neighbors, something that resulted in frequent scoldings by Amanda. I'd kept my distance from all of them, only seeing them at neighborhood gatherings and never alone. Even Craig I'd kept closed off, limiting our time together to the occasional godawful morning run through the park, or helping wrangle the softball team together for pizza. 

Maybe I'd pushed away my feelings for Joseph simply by pushing him away and everyone else. I must've felt some sort of inclination towards him, though, since I _had_ agreed to take him in while he was sick. That was weird. Why would I take in a man who was practically a stranger to me, when I hardly wanted to be around people I actually knew well? 

And then everything had just sort of spiraled out of control. Every small touch, every glance... my heart would beat a little faster just thinking of him. I knew I'd never be able to hear his name again without my chest tightening. God... love was painful. I'd forgotten how painful it could be.

How long would it hurt for? As long as I would have to wait for him to finish things with Mary.... What if he never did? What if it became an endless game of waiting for the “right time” and it never happening? In someways, I wished I could go back and redo the week. Say no. Refuse to help Mary. Avoid all of my actions just so I wouldn't have to wait and be miserable.

Ugh... I was so selfish. In either reality, this one or my imagined, I was selfish. Selfish for wanting Joseph for myself... selfish for wanting to protect myself. Still, even knowing there was pain to come, I decided I was glad of my choices. I deserved to be happy. He deserved to be happy. It felt like this was becoming my new mantra, every time I had to justify to myself our behavior. 

Lost in my thoughts, I unintentionally watched an hour of the shopping channel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See y'all Friday for the update!


	9. Sunday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kingsley can't resist seeing Joseph one last time, but Amanda is surprisingly eager to visit Mary as well...

Amanda found me as I was attempting to squeeze into a suit that hadn't been worn since her middle school graduation ceremony. I was struggling with the pants, unable to bring button and buttonhole together no matter how hard I pulled. I told myself it was the added bulk of the dress shirt that was the problem, not my aging body. 

“Yikes,” Amanda commented, leaning against my door frame to watch the show. “Against my better judgment, I'm gonna have to ask... what's with the suit?”

“It's uh... nothing really,” I started before recalling Amanda was keen and I was a bad liar. I didn't want things to fall apart, and knew I had to tell the truth if I wanted to keep my secrets hidden. “I just thought I'd attend church today... make sure Joseph is doin' okay for sure.”

“Uh... Dad... you know you're not gonna see him, right? He's the _youth_ pastor, and, no offense, but you're not exactly “youthful”,” Amanda reminded me, her fingers marking air quotes around her words as she spoke.

I made a face. “Well, yeah, but there's, um, the thing... churches do... with the bad coffee?”

“You're going to sit through two—maybe three—hours of Biblical lectures _and_ drink bad coffee just to ensure Joseph is alright?” Amanda asked. Oh god. Her voice was skeptical. She was gonna find out. I was doomed. “Dad... I know he's your friend and you worry, but why don't you just wait and catch him _after_ church in the driveway or something?”

“Oh. Yeah... I could do that,” I agreed with a nod. 

“Good, now would you lose the suit already? Like, forever? Just... put it the trash and let it be gone,” Amanda urged. “We have shows to binge—you didn't watch anything without me, right?”

“Nothing I wouldn't be happy to watch again,” I promised while pulling off the suit jacket. It was difficult. Maybe it wasn't just the pants that were a problem. I thought I heard one of the jacket sleeves tear a little as tried to yank my arm free. “Go, child of mine, I'll meet you on the couch,” I said, forcing Amanda out of my doorway as I closed the door.

 

~*~

 

“I'm sorry, by the way,” I said once Amanda and I were settled in and watching Long Haul Paranormal Ice Road Ghost Truckers together. 

“Eh?” Amanda asked, not looking at me as she shoved a handful of popcorn in her mouth,

“For, you know... embarrassing you yesterday,” I answered slowly. “With the flower thing... and the boy.”

Amanda shrugged. “It's fine. I guess it did look kinda odd.” She continued to shovel popcorn into her mouth, still not really looking at me when she spoke. “Don't worry about Lucien, though—we'd never work out.”

I tensed, realizing this was something she had thought about before. I was relieved that she'd decided against it, but still I was uneasy knowing it had ever been on the table. “Oh, um... why's that?” I asked, even though I wasn't sure if I wanted to know.

“He doesn't eat meat and he's allergic to dogs,” Amanda answered. “I can handle the vegetarian thing, that's easy... but, I can't be happy without a dog in my life!”

“Ah. Sorry, I never realized you were living in misery with me,” I replied. Amanda had wanted a dog for ages, but it was just never something we could manage. Specifically because every time I'd _considered_ getting her a dog, and we went to look at dogs just to get an idea, Amanda wound up crying because she couldn't have _every_ dog there was to offer.

“I know. I am the saddest person in the world,” Amanda teased. “How long must I suffer?”

“Well, it's going to be a while before you're ready for a dog—you'll need money, and a place of your own for it to stay... but, I think I know how you could ease your suffering a bit this summer... and also prepare for your life as a future dog owner,” I mentioned.

“Really? How?” 

“Damien mentioned the pet shelter needs more help in the summer,” I suggested. “You could earn a little cash for college while there too.”

“Huh... I never really imagined myself doing anything but art for money,” Amanda mused.

“Honey, you know I have all the faith in the world when it comes to your art skills... but you're going to need money to support yourself as budding artist until you make it big, so you'd better start considering what kind of work you're happy to do in order to fund yourself.” 

This was weird. Amanda had been growing up right before my eyes her entire life, and yet somehow I'd forgotten to really talk to her about being an adult. Then again, I wasn't really ready for her to be an adult. I still wanted her to depend on me for help every now and then.

“Yeah. I guess that's true,” Amanda sighed. She'd finished off the popcorn and had set the empty bowl on the coffee table. I reached for it, digging through the seeds to find the half popped seeds and munch on them.

“I mean... you could always just marry rich too. That's an option,” I added, Amanda snorting in reply and getting up to go to the kitchen. At first, I thought she was going to make another bag of popcorn. Instead, she got out her phone and looked at it before beginning to rummage through the cupboards. “What'cha doin', sweetie?”

“I found an easy recipe for pumpkin bread when I was at the Christiansen's, but I never had a chance to make it. I figured I could make it today and we can take it over to them when we go say hi!” 

_We_ go say hi? What was she talking about?

“I know you wanted to make sure Joseph was alright, and I also want to say hi to the kiddos again. It was fun staying over for the week. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad to be home, but I learned a lot while over there and I'm... a little attached, honestly,” Amanda continued.

My thoughts wandered to my week with Joseph. I understood. It was surprisingly easy to grow attached to someone within a week.... “I hope you're going to bless this household with your newfound cooking skills. At least, until you leave for college that is,” I said, trying not to think too much about Joseph. 

“Sure, Pops, but first I'm gonna make this pumpkin bread,” she answered.

“So, what else did you learn... while at the Christiansen's?” I pressed.

“Well... Mary taught me how to use the sewing machine. Christian and Christie destroy a lot of toys, but you can put the life back in a few things with just a little knowledge of how to sew,” Amanda answered. 

She really had managed to find a can of pumpkin in the cupboard. I had no memory of ever buying one... but, there it was. 

“And, you know I'm great with kids... but, after day one I learned that sometimes things can't be fun all the time. Sometimes you gotta buckle down and get tough.” I was glad she wasn't facing me as she spoke. If she had been, she would've seen the surprise on my face. She'd gone over there my goofy teenage daughter, and returned as a mature young woman. 

“Yeah... I had a hard time learning that lesson with you,” I agreed. “You were just too cute a baby. I never wanted to see you cry.” I'd failed that mission—Amanda had probably cried more this year than she had the year she learned how to ride a bike and kept falling off. 

“Aw, thanks Dad,” Amanda laughed. 

“By the way, my newly matured child... you're gonna clean all that up, right?” I asked, looking at the mess she was already beginning to make in the kitchen.

She turned and made a face at me. “Sure, I'll clean it up. But, you won't get any pumpkin bread since you didn't help at all.”

“Are you telling me that being your dad and taking care of you isn't enough help to warrant one slice of pumpkin bread?” 

“I do love you, o' father of mine, but you don't get points for doing what's expected of you,” she retorted. Ouch. I think I'd told her that once when she asked for an allowance because she did her own laundry. To hear it come back at me was a shock.

“Fiiiiine, I'll help clean up,” I groaned, getting up and moving over to the kitchen to sit at the table. “So, while at the Christiansen's, did everything go okay...? Was Mary... ever around?”

Amanda's expression alerted me to the fact that I had said something terribly wrong or out of line.

“What? Of course she was around. Who would've watched Chrish while I was at school if she wasn't around?” Amanda scoffed. 

Oh yeah... that was true. 

“She's not as aloof with her family as people think. She was almost late to work every day this week because she was waiting for her kids to get home from school so she could see them before she left. Since she works so late, they're asleep when she gets home... and then they go to school before she is awake in the morning. It was really important to her that she get to see them a little bit every day.”

“She works late?” I repeated. I'd seen her out pretty late before, but it definitely hadn't been for work....  


“Yeah, and then on her weekends she goes out at night because she needs to keep to her schedule, but doesn't want to wake up the kids. It was really fun yesterday morning when I got to hang out with her and the kids for a bit before I came home,” Amanda told me. “I think, of all the things I learned this week, the most important thing was people are more complex than they appear on the surface.”

“Don't judge a book by its cover....” I really hated hearing all of this. I didn't want to know Mary was a good mother. I didn't want to know she was a nice woman. It poked holes in the justifications I made for myself and Joseph, and it made me feel like a huge ass. 

 

~*~

 

I carefully groomed myself while the pumpkin bread was cooking, even going so far as to tidy up my eyebrows. Much of mine and Joseph's time this past week had been spent in our pajamas with bedhead, since we'd had no reason to go out, and I wanted to ensure he knew I could look... put together... sometimes. 

“I got the bread all cut and ready to go!” Amanda announced, startling me with her sudden appearance. She eyed me up and down and made a face. “First a suit, now cologne?”

“Yes, Amanda! I don't want them to think I am a lazy bum who does nothing all day!” I replied shrilly.

“But you are a la-” 

I turned and gave her a stern look, warning her to zip it. “They just got home from church. They're probably still in their church clothes. We should... try... to look nice as well. Now, go put on that dress you wore for cousin Leticia's quinceanera.”

She gave me a look that suggested I had lost it. “... Yanno, I'm gonna give that a solid pass... but I support you in your weird attempts to hide your habits from our neighbors,” Amanda responded. “Joseph knows the truth, though,” she said in an annoying sing-song way.

“Well, Mary doesn't have to,” I retorted. “Just let me pretend I have my life together like the rest of these adults for like... twenty minutes, okay, honey?”

Amanda grinned and shook her head. “Whatever you say, Pops, whatever you say....” She wandered off, leaving to wait for me in the living room while I stared at myself in the mirror and scrutinized every part of my face.

Keep it together, _Kingsley_... I told myself. It was just a surprise visit to our neighbors—my secret lover and his wife—to give them some pumpkin bread and wish them well. Not at all weird. Nope... not at all.

“ _Daaaaad_ ,” Amanda called, beginning to grow impatient. 

“Fine, fine! I'm coming!” I hollered back, flicking the bathroom light off and hurrying down the hall to meet her. “When did you become my parent?” I asked her. 

She had cut the bread and individually wrapped each piece, making them easy to dispense and harder to attempt to gorge yourself on. “Oh, a year or so again is where I'd say the shift began,” Amanda guessed. 

I held the door open for her and we were on our way, moving across the street to go and see the Christiansen household.... I stopped talking as we walked over, my thoughts going round and round as I thought about seeing Joseph again. Sure, I'd seen him early this morning before he'd headed home... but Mary hadn't been there, and neither had his children. Crap. What if I didn't know how to interact with him in front of others?

I didn't, to be honest.

God... how would we even manage a relationship after he ended things with Mary? It was going to be so hard... would his kids hate me? Would he even want me around his kids? What if Mary got full custody and he lost them? It would kill him!

Oh god, and then there was Amanda.... She loved Mary.

It was a good thing I'd worn cologne today, because I was sweating like crazy as Amanda urged me to knock on the door already.

“You do it,” I hissed, Amanda frowning.

“I've got my hands full with this plate of pumpkin bread!” she reminded me. “Dad! Just knock already!”

I was about to give in and do it, but it turned out there was no need. The door swung open before I could even move, Christian staring up at us with wide, unblinking eyes momentarily. Then, it was like a switch got flipped inside of him, light entering his eyes before he smiled big.

“Amanda!” he screamed.

“Christian, we've talked about opening the door without mommy or daddy present! It's danger—oh! Uh, Kay!” Joseph said as he came to shoo Christian away from the door. He was clearly surprised to see me, but, as his eyes passed between Amanda and I, it was evident he was relieved I was not alone.

“MOOOM! AMANDA'S BACK!” Christian shouted, running off to go find his sister. I saw Chris poke his head out of his bedroom door, and thought I saw the faintest smile on his face when he spied Amanda in the doorway. Wow... she really had won over these kids.

“H-hi, Joseph,” I stammered. “Amanda and I brought over some, um, some pumpkin bread for the family.”

“Yeah! We wanted to make sure everything was okay and back to normal for you guys!” Amanda added cheerfully. “Aaaaand I just couldn't resist seeing the kiddos. I'm leavin' for college soon, you know, so I gotta make sure I see them as much as possible now while they're still cute. I just know they're gonna grow like crazy while I'm gone!”

God bless Amanda. I decided I was as relieved as Joseph that she was around—if she hadn't been, it would've been impossible for us to talk without it being awkward. She was a better excuse for us to see each other than I had anticipated!

“Of course!” Joseph replied. “Come on in. I'll let Mary know you're here!”

 

~*~

 

Twenty-one... twenty-two... twenty-three....

“Hey! Thanks for taking care of me again, neighbor!” Joseph said as he plopped down next to me on his sofa and offered me a glass of iced tea. I'd been counting the crosses in the living room while I sat there... awkwardly.... Amanda had been taken by the children, perhaps forever, and was nowhere in sight. That left just me and Joseph... and Mary. 

“Yes, we're truly grateful for your family's help this week,” Mary said as she perched herself on the edge of the armrest of a chair across from us. She didn't sound grateful... she really just sounded like her usual bitter self. 

“Yeah, it was... uh... no problem at all,” I replied. I took a sip of the iced tea and had to fight to swallow it. It had no sugar at all. How dare Joseph? He _knew_ I didn't like tea to begin with, and then he hurts me this way? Were it not for Mary's presence, I would've pinched him or something.

“Your daughter was a tremendous help. She's going to be a great mother someday,” Mary continued. She had a wine glass in her hands, rather than the horrible, sugarless tea Joseph and I both possessed. Unfair. 

“Oh, well, I don't think she's really got plans for that... her kid will probably walk on four legs and drool a lot, you know... cuz... it'd be a dog....” I trailed off, my eyes focusing on my glass of iced tea and staring at it. This was bad... this was so bad.... “Anyways, um, I'm not doing much these days since I... retired... so... if you need help again, just let me know,” I offered.

Mary raised an eyebrow, and I feared whatever question she might have waiting on her lips.

“Huh. I didn't realize you were retired. I had been worried I was disadvantaging you all week, forcing Joseph off on you like I did, but I'm glad it worked out,” Mary mentioned. “What is it you retired from, Kingsley?”

Ugh. I hated it when she said my full name. I didn't really like it when anyone used it... well, no, that wasn't entirely true. There was the way it sounded when Joseph moaned it, or whispered it in my ear.... God it was hot in here. I set my glass down and fussed with my shirt collar. 

“I, uh, I used to be a janitor...” I admitted. Well. If that didn't distract Mary from my reddening cheeks, I didn't know what would.

“Well, that's a very important job,” Joseph input. He gave his wife a desperate and pleading look, and I saw her roll her eyes in response.

“A janitor. Wow. So uh... how was it you retired so early?” Mary pressed.

I wasn't sure what conversation could possibly be more uncomfortable: this one, or the one where she found out I had been fucking her husband this past week. I decided on the latter, choosing to just answer the questions in stride.

“Alex died,” I said shortly. Okay. Well that wasn't the best way to answer the question, but I certainly wouldn't have retired so soon if Amanda hadn't needed me to be there for her after Alex passed. Mary's face looked a little paler than usual, and she took a long drink of her wine as she tried to compose herself.

“I am... I am very sorry, Kay. That was... Mary is sorry too, right dear?” Joseph asked. Mary gave a nod in reply, but kept her lips on the rim of her wine glass.

“It's fine. It's a valid question. Sort of,” I replied. “Um... so yeah. I'm retired... Amanda has been really insistent that I get out more and meet people. She thinks I have too much free time.”

“Ha! You're probably in her way, since you're always around,” Mary laughed. “She goes out to see friends more than she invites them over, right?”

“Oh, yeah... I mean, she used to. She doesn't really have any friends right now,” I explained, all the while praying that Amanda wouldn't walk in to hear me telling Mary and Joseph this. She would be absolutely livid with me if she did.... “But, um, I'm sure she'll recover and they'll all make up. It's just some typical teenage drama, you know. The usual.”

“She doesn't have any friends...?” Mary repeated. “I'll be right back,” she said, setting down her wine glass and vanishing. I'd never thought it was possible to get Mary to put down a wine glass that wasn't empty.

“Joseph,” I whispered, leaning closer to him. “This is going really _bad_.”

“ _I know_ ,” Joseph whispered back. He moved a hand to my thigh and gave me a comforting squeeze. “Why did you come over here anyways?”

“I told you. To make sure you were really doing okay,” I answered. “And, I thought that maybe it'd be less suspicious if I visited....”

“Kingsley! Why would you think that? Everyone knows you're kind of anti-social! It's more than suspicious that you wanted to come say hi!”

“Well... then... just tell people it was Amanda's idea. She's the one who made pumpkin bread!” I retorted. “Wait... wait a second... is that why Mary picked me?”

“What?”

“Because I'm anti-social? Did... oh my god she was afraid of this... she picked me because she thought it was safer for you to be with me than anyone else!?” I asked accusingly. It hadn't really occurred to me. I mean... I had wondered why the hell she'd called _me_ last Monday when her husband was ill. It hadn't made any sense. But, now, knowing more about Joseph's past indiscretions... it made perfect sense. I had been less of a threat to her marriage, or so it'd seemed.

Joseph frowned. “I'm sure it has nothing to do with that and more to do with the fact that you... are always home....”

“It could've been anyone! It didn't have to be me... oh my god....” I was starting to freak out. This meant Joseph would've happily... it didn't matter if it was me or someone else... he would've.... 

“Kay! Kingsley!” Joseph snapped, still keeping his voice quiet to avoid attracting Mary's attention. He grabbed my face and forced me to look at him. “It had to be _you_. I promise. I love you, no one else. Winding up half-dead on _your_ couch was the best possible thing to happen to me—sure, I could've wound up on anyone's couch... but, it was only your bed I would've ever wanted to be in.”

“Yeah, but how could you have known that? We hardly ever talked!” I pointed out. The sound of heels approaching down the hallway was enough to make Joseph jolt away from me.

“We'll discuss it later,” Joseph said quickly, and we went back to sitting awkwardly on the couch as Mary came into the room towing Amanda behind her.

“Hey Dad! Guess what!”

“What is it, 'Manda Panda?” I asked, forcing a thin smile in her direction.

“Mary is going to talk her boss into commissioning me for art for their business!” Amanda announced. She was positively beaming, Mary looking pleased with herself for her promises to my daughter.

“Absolutely, kiddo. That place is so dry, and you're the one who can give it a little life. I just know it,” Mary said in that usual smug tone of hers.

Fuck... this was all going to be so much more messy than I had anticipated, and I had already been prepared for a mess. This was going to be a disaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! We've got one update left, but it will be a week from now, on Friday, instead of the usual Monday/Friday updates!  
> Thank you for your patience!


	10. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Months have passed, and there hasn't been much improvement to Kingsley's relationship with Joseph. Hopefully, it won't be much longer before things settle down....

“You know, one of these days you're going to actually be sick... and I'm not going to believe you,” I mumbled as I sleepily collapsed on the bed of Joseph's yacht. It was so early... the sun wasn't even up yet, so why was I? Because Joseph had called, of course... what else would manage to drag me out of my bed, perfectly warm and cozy, at four AM on a crisp, fall morning?

“But I _am_ sick! Lovesick!” Joseph insisted, joining me beneath the covers and coaxing me closer with the heat of his skin. My fingers were still cold from my walk down to the docks, despite spending the majority of the walk buried deep in my pockets.

My nose was cold too, and I pressed it into Joseph's chest and let him take my chilled hands in his. “I'm going to wind up the one who is sick— _really_ sick—if you keep luring me here at these godforsaken hours... if you think I'm going to trudge down here after it snows, you're approaching senility faster than me.”

“Well, hopefully, by the time it snows... I won't be sleeping in this bed anymore,” Joseph sighed. He gave my fingers a squeeze, and I knew he was thinking of the future we envisioned for ourselves. My house was considerably emptier with Amanda at college these days....

But, that future seemed so far still. Even after nearly half a year had passed.

Joseph and I had suspended our relations immediately after he'd returned home from his week-long recovery at my house. It hadn't been what I'd wanted. It hadn't been what he'd wanted either... but, it had been for the best. He had been right to make that call for us, though it had hurt the entire time. I'd felt like he was pushing me away, always keeping our interactions short and civil with no hint of us even sharing a friendship.

It had it's purpose, however. Mary never became any colder than she naturally was, and she and Amanda had fostered a strong bond between them. Her almost parental dotage upon my child had been one of the few reasons I'd seen Joseph at all the entire summer. 

Joseph let out a loud and frustrated sigh before passing his lips over my fingers. They tingled as they grew warmer, proper blood flow restored. “Mary is being quite strict with the visitation rules...” he mentioned as he tucked his head against my shoulder.

I nodded. I had watched their entire divorce process, distant and detached. The entire neighborhood had. Sure, everyone tried to mind their own business and act normal... but how could you, when a family was falling apart right before your eyes? Worst of all was that there was no sympathy for Joseph. The failing of their marriage rested on his shoulders. He was the one who had asked for the divorce, and he was the one with a history that everyone but I had known about.

I'd only found out after the initial separation had become public. I'd seen Robert. I'd watched him walk straight up to Joseph as Joseph was carrying out a box of belongings from his own home... Mary's home. I'd seen from the safety of my living room as Robert hauled off and punched Joseph, yelling at him for what seemed like ages while Joseph stooped to retrieve his fallen items and pushed away any pain he'd felt.

I'd wanted to go outside right then, run to him and comfort him. Maybe punch Robert back, for Joseph. But, I stayed... glued to my couch and hiding. Joseph didn't want me involved. He took everything in stride just to protect me.

“She hired a babysitter to watch the kids in the evening... I'm not allowed to visit them without her present,” Joseph continued. “It was alright during the summer, because they didn't have school... but now, I never see them. They're all growing up without me, and I... they're too young to understand. They must hate me....”

I stroked his head, saying nothing as Joseph sniffed and eventually wound up crying into my shoulder. This happened often these days, and there was nothing I could really do besides hold him and wait and hope that maybe I might say something right. “They don't hate you. They miss you. They are too young to understand, just like you said.”

Joseph let out a shaky breath and shook his head. “Not Chris. Chris knows... he knows I did something wrong.”

“It wasn't wrong. It wasn't wrong to end your misery. You know that. Mary knows it too. She'll... she'll recover, and she'll realize it was the right decision to make,” I assured him. We'd had this conversation so many times... I hoped it was true.

“I guess... I saw her the other morning. To discuss the visitation rights. She said we could renegotiate them once I have a home, a real home, for the children to visit,” Joseph mentioned. I continued to play with his hair. “What if she changes her mind... when that home is yours?”

I didn't have an answer for him. “Joseph... it's early,” I said, meaning so much more than just the time of day. It was early in their divorce. It wasn't even finalized. It was early in our relationship... as far as the neighbors knew, we didn't really know each other that well. It was just too early to talk about or plan anything. “Let's just go back to sleep for a while longer... you'll feel better,” I told him, cuddling closer as I spoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, there will still be one last update to this story on Friday! It just made more sense to post the Epilogue today rather than do two updates tomorrow.


	11. BONUS: J & K's Getaway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In an attempt to enjoy their relationship outside of the public eye, Joseph and Kingsley take off for a short, and fairly disastrous, getaway.

“Wow, that's great, sweetie! I'm really glad. Uh-huh. Yep. Mhmm. Of course. Yeah! I can't wait either. Sounds good. Yep. Uh-huh.”

My eyes briefly met Joseph's as I talked on the phone with Amanda, and he made a goofy face at me. I had to turn around in order to not be distracted. Amanda was talking a mile a minute, and it was taking my everything to stay focused and actually hear what she was saying. 

Her classes were going well, she'd been selected for work study and was helping with the college play set designs, man was she glad Mary had given her that opportunity to spruce up the workplace—it had really paid off by fattening her portfolio and gaining her a few more scholarships, plus the company had been generous with their pay for her work... oh, Thanksgiving break was fast approaching but she wasn't sure if she'd be coming home for it or not—it wasn't like we really did much anyways, but she missed me.

I tried to keep my voice positive on the phone, and not sound too stressed. Thanksgiving... oh god, that was too soon. Mary had already sorta... discovered Joseph and I. I still didn't know how. She'd slapped me. It'd hurt.

I didn't want Amanda to come home and find out from Mary before I had a chance to talk to her....

“Amanda, honey? I gotta go—I'm doing what you said, and getting out more to meet people. What? No I'm not lying! I'm serious! Look, I gotta go—people are waiting for me. Amanda... stop sounding so skeptic! I'm hanging up now. Gonna do it. Bye, Amanda. Hanging up... hanging up now....” It was so impossible to just end the call. I didn't have Amanda's talent for just abruptly hanging up. It took Joseph actually coming over and pressing the End Call button on my phone for it to be over, and I immediately received a shocked text from Amanda for his actions.

_I can't believe you just hung up on me! Who are you!? :P_

I would've responded, if Joseph hadn't taken the phone from my hand and hurriedly run over to my car to hide it in the glove-box. Ugh... with the amount of old receipts I'd managed to shove in there, it was going to take forever to find. “Rude,” I said as Joseph returned to my side and handed me my car keys and a backpack stuffed with clothes.

“If that's the worst you think of me, I'll take it,” Joseph retorted. 

He had his duffle bag, white with a golden anchor and his name, slung over his shoulder. I hadn't seen that duffle bag in months, but it brought up strong memories of when everything had begun and when everything had ended. I'd thought one week was too short, but now, only seeing Joseph for a few hours once in a random while... a week was something I longed for.

“What's that melancholy face for? Don't tell me you're regretting coming out here with me...” Joseph said, his hand squeezing my shoulder as he spoke.

I shook my head. “Not a chance. I'm glad we were able to do this,” I replied. I stuffed my keys into the pocket of my sweater, taking Joseph's hand in mine and leading the way up a rocky and uneven path. There were tree roots that had grown across the “path” (if it could even be called that), and I found myself stumbling frequently. Joseph's hand, strong and warm, kept me from falling on my face the entire time we were walking.

“Why... did they put the driveway... so ridiculously far away...?” I complained, panting as we trudged upwards.

“To encourage people to spend more time together by making it harder for them to leave,” Joseph answered. 

“Okay... I know that is supposed to somehow sound... nice... but it doesn't,” I pointed out. “It sounds just plain creepy. Is this place haunted, Joseph? Are you taking me somewhere haunted?”

Joseph laughed loudly and shook his head. “I just thought it'd be nice to be somewhere far away from others... where we can be ourselves and not worry if anyone sees us.”

“Yeah...” I replied sullenly. I'd been worrying all day that someone had seen Joseph climb into my car long before the sun came up, both of us escaping the city to spend a romantic few days together in a rental cabin. Joseph had picked the location, and it had taken hours to reach... hours I'd spent thinking about what others would say.

I didn't know why I was worrying. What could they really say that I hadn't already thought myself? After Mary's initial discovery, the news had broke quickly in the neighborhood. Everyone knew. Everyone except my own daughter. If I'd been a bit of a loner before, I was practically a recluse now. 

“God... how much further is this place? I get privacy, but this might be overkill!” I whined as we continued our trek to our destination.

“Oh brother... if you'd stop looking at the ground and look up, maybe you'd see that we're nearly there,” Joseph laughed.

“If I look up I will fall,” I muttered. “These roots are practically track hurdles.”

“Alright alright, lesson learned: do not expose Kay's to nature. They don't like it,” Joseph teased, his fingers curling around mine a little tighter. “I'm serious though, Kay... look up.”

Sighing, I did as told and let my eyes wander up the path to the great big stone steps of the cabin and its wrap-around porch complete with porch swing. It had enormous windows on the front side, almost the entire front room of the cabin exposed. “Huh... what direction is behind us?”

“South.”

“Cool... so that room is almost entirely lit by natural light then, huh?” 

“... I guess?” Joseph responded, clearly confused by whatever train of thought I was riding.

“Sorry. Before everyone... found out... I would go jogging with Craig and we'd always run into Brian in the park...” I explained. It felt weird. I'd genuinely started to make friends, just like Amanda had wanted, and now they all couldn't help but look at me in judgment.

This had been exactly what Joseph wanted to avoid.

“Ooooh... yeah... he can talk up a storm, especially when it comes to his work. You're bound to learn something,” Joseph agreed knowingly.  
“All I ever wanted to know in life was what kind of wood is best for building a porch...”

“Yeah? What was it?”

“Apparently “Pressure-Treated Pine” is a favorite. That, or something called “ee-pay”,” I informed him. Joseph nodded at my incredible “wisdom” and pulled on my arm, urging me to complete the last leg of our trip up to the cabin.

 

~*~

 

“JOSEPH! JOSEPH COME HERE!” 

I had wandered into the bathroom, grateful that I would not be relieving myself against a tree after the long drive out here, only to wind up running right back out and scrambling to find Joseph. He was in the kitchen, stocking the cupboards with the food we'd packed for our getaway. He gave me a concerned look, and I struggled to try and tell him what was wrong.

“There's! There's a-it's a! There's a fucking possum in the bathroom!!” I sputtered, waving my arms wildly in the direction of the bathroom. I was glad I hadn't just peed myself right then and there, when that _thing_ had come out from behind the toilet and hissed at me.

Joseph frowned, and then he laughed. “A possum? Are you sure, Kay?”

“ _Joseph, do I look like I am joking!?_ ” I still really had to pee. “Go look for yourself!”

Joseph shrugged and put down the can of beans he was holding. I watched him walk away, heading for the bathroom and opening the door to peek in. He promptly slammed it shut, and I looked at him smugly. 

“Told you! What do we do!?” I asked. Damn. I was desperate for two things right now; firstly, a bathroom, and, secondly, a possum free cabin. 

“Uh... we'll have to catch it, I guess. And put it outside... I'll go find a blanket,” Joseph decided.

I nodded quickly. “I'm just... gonna go use outside before _it_ is out there as well,” I said, hurrying out the door to find an “adequate” tree for my needs. So far, this was not the romantic trip I'd been looking forward to....

Joseph found me shortly afterwards while I was sitting on the porch swing. He had an ugly quilt folded up in his arms. “Ready?”

“Ready for what?” I asked as I eyed the quilt warily.

“To catch a possum!” He sounded way too enthusiastic about this....

“I thought you were catching the possum,” I pointed out; I didn't want to go near that thing! Having it right by my leg as I was unzipping my pants had been close enough for me!

“Well, sure, but I need help,” Joseph insisted. “C'mon, Kay... think of it like... a bonding activity. We're going to work together to catch the possum and put it outside, where it belongs, so we can have a nice cabin retreat. Together.”

His voice was soft and low as he spoke, a deliberate attempt to be enticing. I groaned, weak and unable to resist that voice. This was unfair. He was the one who had picked a cabin in the middle of bumble-fuck nowhere. I'd just wanted some time alone with him that didn't involve sneaking onto and off his boat every few days, and now, instead, I was going to have to try and catch a possum.

“You better know that I love you an awful lot...” I grumbled as I got up and went back inside, Joseph following right behind me.

He chuckled and gave me a kiss on the cheek as he passed me and took the lead. “Okay, Kingsley... I'm going to open the door, and you go in the bathroom and chase it out. Then I'll catch it with the blanket, okay?” he instructed, my eyes widening in disbelief as he laid out the plan.

“What!? Nuh-uh! No way. _You_ go in the bathroom and chase it out,” I argued.

Joseph shrugged. “Okay, then you'll have to take the blanket and catch it.”

Crap.

I shook my head. “Nope. Changed my mind. You catch it,” I decided. No way in hell was I touching that thing, quilt or no quilt. 

Joseph rolled his eyes and moved to grab the doorknob.

“Wait!”

“What?”

“I just... I can't go in there unarmed! I need a stick or something!” I said. 

“Uh... there's a few pokers by the fireplace, I think,” Joseph suggested, and I gave a quick nod before running off to find one.

Finally prepared, I signaled for Joseph to open the door. I was brave. I was brave. I had to keep telling myself that as I approached the bathroom with my metal poker in hand. I froze in the doorway, suddenly confused.

“Joseph...” I said slowly, “it's a _mommy_.”

“What?” Joseph moved to peek around me, both of us staring at the sight of three tiny possums, all the size of rats, clinging to the backside their mother. They were almost kinda cute.

“Okay okay... it just occurred to me that I don't know a single thing about possums,” Joseph said, pulling me away from the bathroom and closing the door. “Maybe we should do a little research?”

“With _what_? You left my phone in the car,” I reminded him.

“Oh. Yeah,” Joseph said with a sheepish smile.

 

~*~

 

I rested my head against the window while Joseph drove, windshield wipers on high the entire way to combat the pouring rain. I wasn't sleeping, my eyes scanning the road before us for any animals we could possibly hit—that was all we needed to really make this trip worse than it already was.

Neither of us spoke.

We'd tried to remove the possum from the cabin, but it had snuck back in via whatever secret hole it used as an entrance—all we'd accomplished really was learning that it, most likely, didn't have rabies. On top of that, as the sun had sunk lower, we discovered that the electricity to the cabin was dead. We had no power. What we did have was plenty of bugs. Annnnd no bug spray.

We tried to remain optimistic, deciding to just go to bed and, in the morning, find some solutions to our problems. But, almost unsurprisingly, it had begun raining and, naturally, the roof was leaking and we woke up in cold, soggy sheets. 

We'd called it quits right then, grabbing our bags and making our way back to the car. I'd fallen during the walk—of course—and wound up wet and muddy and even more unhappy. 

“I'm sorry...” Joseph said, his eyes focused on the road. “This was...”

“Horrible,” I concluded. 

“Yeah,” Joseph agreed. “It could've been worse, though.”

“How?” I demanded to know.

“Well... it could've been badger....” 

I glared at him.

“There could've been no roof at all,” Joseph suggested next.

“I could've fallen on poison ivy,” I joined in.

“The bed could've been full of spiders eggs.”

“And the couch full of mice,” I said with a laugh.

Joseph reached over to grab my hand, his thumb stroking along my knuckles. “I could've been alone....” 

I sighed. Yeah... it could've been worse. We fell back into silence as Joseph drove, our fingers entwined all the way up until we saw a sign for a motel and made the decision to stop for the night. 

Check-in was awkward. I was getting mud everywhere, and the desk clerk looked especially annoyed rather than sympathetic. I blamed it on the hour and our disheveled appearances—no way did we look like normal, non-problem causing patrons. They probably thought our bags were full of illegal substances, rather than an abundance of underwear and socks. I always packed too many socks....

Joseph got our room keys, and we went back out into the rain to go find our room for the night. I'd never liked motels... but, I had to admit this was better than the cabin so far. At least our room was dry, warm, and lit. Sure, the light did flicker a bit... but, still, it was an improvement.

I dropped my bag on the floor and began undressing, desperate to remove my muddy and damp clothing. Joseph snickered as I removed my shirt, and I had to look in the mirror to see why. My shirt had risen when I'd fallen, allowing mud to encrust the skin of my backside as well. I made a noise of disgust. I'd hoped to just change clothes and go to bed already, I was exhausted, but apparently that was not happening.

“Hang on, I'll go get the shower started,” Joseph said, wandering off towards the bathroom. At least this bathroom would be possum free.... I heard the squeak of a shower knob being turned, the sound of water running meeting my ears. Just that made me feel a little better. 

Sure, the room smelled kind of funny, and the bed had a weird stain of unknown origin on it... _stay positive, Kingsley_. I had never been good at vacations or travel in general. I could barely handle rearranging my bedroom furniture. 

“Hey, Kay, come here!” Joseph called, and I moved towards the sound of his voice. He was waiting for me, his own clothing already removed. Together we entered the shower. It was small, and my elbows kept banging against the wall. There really wasn't enough room for both of us. But, with Joseph's hands gently rubbing my skin free of mud, his chin resting on my shoulder while warm water fell on us... it was good. 

Joseph's hand crept across my belly, moving to reach between my legs. I sighed happily.

We hadn't done this in a while. Not since our relationship had been exposed. We struggled enough with the stares and the comments. In an attempt to look less guilty, we had taken to having short, public dates where we enjoyed coffee and held hands, as though the relationship were something just beginning. I'd stopped visiting his yacht, and he never came over. 

I don't know why. It was evident people were uncomfortable no matter what we did. That was the entire reason for our trip—to have some time to ourselves again. With Joseph touching me the way he was, it was a little easier to forget about the people back home and just... enjoy myself.

“Kay... Kingsley... c'mon,” Joseph said, coaxing me out of the shower. We made no attempt to dry off, Joseph picking me up like I weighed nothing. I wrapped my legs around him as he carried me out of the bathroom and deposited me on the bed. I'd entirely forgotten about the weird stain, and now I simply didn't care. I kissed Joseph clumsily as he crawled on top of me, his teeth tugging on my lower lip just as hungrily as my fingers ran over his skin.

“You packed it, right?” I asked. I was tired... but I didn't want to stop. I didn't want to waste the time we had together.

“Of course,” Joseph said. He left me briefly, and when he returned I heard a soft click that had become so pleasing to my ears. 

I rolled onto my stomach, Joseph hooking a hand around my thigh and pulling me closer to him. I felt his fingers slide between my cheeks, a different sort of wetness than just water coating them. God it felt good to be tended to... I could've fallen asleep right then, with Joseph slowly and deliberately running his fingers from my cock all the way back and up almost to where my backside began.

I curled my fingers around the sheets, sighing as Joseph bent over me to kiss my shoulder blades. I could feel his cock pressing against my rear, hard and making me more desperate than ever. While I loved to engage in foreplay when Joseph was on the receiving end, I'd never had much patience for it for myself. I wiggled back against Joseph, demanding he give me what I wanted.

I could feel his soft laughter against my skin, his hand moving lower to find the right position before he began to push into me.

He moved slowly, giving me time to adjust as he entered me. I loved the feeling, how rewarding it was to have him fill me up with every inch of him. 

“Kay... stop clenching so hard... I swear you're trying to break me,” Joseph said lowly. He stopped moving once he was fully in, resting his chest against my backside so that I could feel the vibrations when he spoke. “I love you, Kay...”

I wanted to memorize how it felt to hear those words, Joseph's voice reverberating through me. 

He pulled away before I could ask him to say it again, his hips rolling against me in a way that was intensely satisfying. I groaned, enjoying the slow and relaxed pace he set. After so long of doing nothing but tentative hand holding, I didn't want this to end anytime soon. 

“Hey... don't fall asleep on me,” Joseph said. I hadn't even realized I was starting to doze, and I gave a weak laugh.

“Sorry... just feels so good,” I mumbled. Joseph slid out of me, his hands guiding me back onto my backside. I let him do whatever he wanted, my legs eventually resting on his shoulders as he re-entered me and I gave a drawn out groan. With him above me like this, I found it hard to look away. His cheeks were flushed, his lips slightly parted as he tried to keep his breathing steady. 

My fingers curled around my own shaft, thumb tracing along the underside of my cock where it was most sensitive. I stared at Joseph's lips, wishing they were closer so that I might kiss them and taste him. 

“Fuck... I don't know how you can keep this up...” Joseph said, struggling to maintain himself.

I laughed. “Hey, at my age, sometimes you just gotta take things slow,” I teased.

His laughter was strained. He was clearly reaching his limit, but unwilling to be done yet. “I can't, I can't,” he repeated over and over.

I unhooked my legs, my arms reaching to pull Joseph down on top of me. I kissed his hair as he shuddered against me, knowing it was over. Joseph rolled to my side, his hand finding my cock and steadily jacking me off until I too was spent. 

“Kingsley... I want to move in...” Joseph announced, his breath tickling my cheek as he spoke. “I don't want to spend any more time apart.”

“But... your divorce...” I pointed out, Joseph sighing.

“I don't care anymore. Waiting won't change anything,” he said firmly. He moved a leg over me, and I nodded in agreement. It didn't matter anymore. It didn't matter what people said or thought. They'd get over it. Mary would get over it. I hoped Amanda would understand one day as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> I know I left a lot of stuff up in the air, but I decided it was best to let everyone draw their own conclusions about how things worked out in the end.  
> Of course I wouldn't mind sharing my personal conclusions if asked, but I think it's more fun to let everyone keep their own headcanons!
> 
> I will be sharing a new fic starting on the 2nd of October, titled "I Can't Decide" and featuring waaaaay more of the neighborhood; I can't wait! 
> 
> **Disclaimer: Condoms are an important part of safe sex. While not mentioned in this story (obviously because it is fiction, and not because I am a huge fan of talking about lube over condoms) do not be fooled into thinking that Joseph and Kingsley neglecting to don their raincoats is in any way a safe practice for sex. Be careful out there; know your partner's history, get checked every time you have a new partner, and love yourself so you can keep on lovin' others.**
> 
> See y'all Monday!


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